


Stay Gold

by greensooshi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Convenience Store, Comeplay, Fluff, Grinding, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greensooshi/pseuds/greensooshi
Summary: A disruption in Jongin’s usually mundane life comes in the form of a strange boy who begs to stay at his place. Little does he know the entire nation is searching for the said boy.





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everyone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyone/gifts).



> Thank you to the mods for always working hard! I hope everyone that reads this enjoys it!

***

The air tastes damp on his tongue, and the smell of rusted metal is strong. He eyes the men from the other side of the door. They’re bickering among themselves, it seems.

The boy looks back on his tied hands, tugging at it to see how tight it is. Fairly. He can feel it digging into the tender skin of his wrists. He closes his eyes and groans quietly to himself. His eyes scan the surroundings then, and makes a double when he sees a cutter and some roll of tapes sitting conveniently on some stacks of boxes. He just has to get himself close.

Cautiously, he glances at the door again and begins to drag the chair he’s sitting on close to the other side of the room, making sure to make little to no sound at all. It’s a little hard with both of his legs tied together, but what’s important is that he’s moving.

Once he’s close enough, he pushes his hand towards the cutter and makes a victory dance in his head when his fingers manage to get a firm grip on it. He twists it so the blade cuts through the tape around his wrists and starts stroking it over the entire length of it, the movement easy until it actually pierces his skin. Shutting his eyes in slight pain, he shifts the blade away and towards the tape rather than his skin.

It takes him an entire 2 minutes until his hands are freed. He sneaks a glance at the door warily before bending down to free his legs, which turns out to be a whole lot easier.

The heavy metal doors make the slightest creak as the boy slides them open, wide enough for him to squeeze through but small enough for it to be looked past. He looks over his back, making sure no one notices his absence, before making a run for it. His eyes scan for any CCTVs, and he tries his best to be in their blind spot, praying to God he’s out of their range.

A gated fence interferes with his otherwise smooth escape. He grunts, looking around for any possible path. His heart is beating erratically, his breaths coming out in pants. The rush of adrenaline forces him to climb over it, his fingers gripping tight on the wires and feet struggling to fit into the holes to bring him up and over. Once he’s at the top, he makes a jump and lands on both his hands and soles, not noticing the scratches he’s acquired from the act.

And from then on, he just runs.

***

 _Your account balance is 11,583245 won._  
_Would you like to continue?_

Jongin sighs, his fingers hovering over the buttons. He stares at the number in disdain before proceeding to withdraw some cash. Maybe tonight he’ll check the transaction history at his place after his shift. Or maybe not, since he already knows the sender and the exact amount that is transferred into his account on a monthly basis.

He’s 10 minutes early as he arrives at the convenience store, and the girl who works the shift before him, called Yoojung, is smiling over something she’s reading on her cell phone. Jongin says a brief ‘good evening’ which goes expectedly unheard by her, and just goes to the staff room at the back to get ready. He takes out his class notes and brings it along.

When Yoojung leaves her post, Jongin replaces her and bids her a quiet goodbye to which the girl just hums in response, still glued to her phone. There’s no one in the store yet, so he goes back to the storage room to restock some packets of buns since he knows Yoojung hardly moves around.

Done with that, he returns to the cashier and opens up his notes, going over their class discussion with the lecturer. The only thing accompanying him is the lowered volume of the small television hung above the counter. He’s not much of a TV person anyway.

Jongin is reading his class notes when the doorbell chimes, signalling the coming of a customer. He looks up briefly before resuming his notes. He’s never seen this boy around before, dressed in a sweater over a shirt, white sneakers looking fairly new. He has his hoodie over his head and a white mouth mask on.

After a while of footsteps padding around the aisles, they stop in front of the cashier. Noticing his presence, Jongin tucks his notes aside before rising from his stool. He waits for the oncoming items to be dropped on the counter, but after a while, it doesn't seem to happen.

Jongin blinks stupidly at the boy’s empty hands. “May I help you?”

“Have you restocked this store yet? The almond milk I’m looking for isn’t in the fridge.” The boy tucks his mask down his chin, his eyes staring up at Jongin through his rather long bangs.

Jongin blinks again before smiling politely. “I’m sorry, but what brand is it?”

The boy shrugs. “It has this smiling cow in its logo. That’s all I remember.”

“Ah, that one. I know which one it is. The store is going to be restocked in a day or two so maybe you could come again at that time.” Jongin says, maintaining his polite smile.

The boy doesn't reply, but instead he frowned and looked over Jongin’s shoulder. The worker looks behind him. It’s a rack of many boxes of cigarettes displayed behind a glass door.

“Would you like a pack?” Jongin asks out of courtesy, but then squints at his clothing. “Are you…?”

At the scrutiny, the boy consciously pulls his blue sweater together over the white dress shirt. “I’m not a minor anymore, okay? It’s just that I’ve never tried it.” Kyungsoo chucks his chin in the direction of the rack, trying to hide his shaking hands.

“Can I have your ID, please?”

“I- I left it at home. I’m not a minor. Born ’92.”

“Oh,” Jongin dismisses, still a bit skeptical, but it’s not the first time minors get a hand in those stuff here anyway. He is reminded of that time when a schoolgirl threatened him that she’d scream sexual harassment if Jongin didn't give her a pack, and that was only because Jongin insisted for her ID. He almost never asked for IDs again after that. “First time?”

“Mm.”

“Well, I wouldn't recommend. They always say it’s hard to stop once you start.”

“Have you tried it?”

The question pulls Jongin off guard. “N-No.”

“Then you wouldn't know that.”

Jongin doesn't know why that sort of ticks him off. “Uh yes, I wouldn't, but I’ve heard accounts from the people around me.”

The boy sends him a long unfathomable stare. “Which pack’s the cheapest?”

“Are you serious?” Jongin blurts out in disbelief.

“I don't think you should question your customers like that.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Right,” Jongin mutters defeatedly, opening the glass case of packs of cancer sticks. “Right, right.” He then picks out the most common pack and gladly the cheapest before placing it on the counter. “Would that be all?”

The boy studies the chocolate bars located on the rack beside the counter, snatching one small bar and places it beside the pack of cigarettes.

“Okay,” Jongin scans the items silently, listening to the boy drumming his fingers over the edge of the counter. “You know, mocha milk is nice too.”

Reaching for his wallet in his back pocket, the boy looks up confusedly at that statement. “Mocha?”

“Mocha.” He nods. “It’s the same brand as the almond one, just not as popular. Have you tried it before?”

The boy shakes his head slowly, frowning.

“Try it. Who knows if you might like it better than the almond.” Jongin smiles before voicing out the price and asking if the boy would like a plastic bag.

He says no and almost hands him a credit card before retracting his hand back like he just touched fire, opting for cash instead. The act causes Jongin to narrow his eyes at him, trying to feign indifference over the fact that this boy has a black card, and he looks like a middle schooler. The shorter boy shoves the pack down his pocket, but holds onto the chocolate bar. Jongin watches him go and sits back, resuming the novel where he last stopped.

Not a minute after, the bell chimes again, but Jongin gets too absorbed in a particular paragraph he doesn't look up. He can faintly hear the sound of the fridge doors being opened and closed shut. After a while, something thuds on the counter in the midst of silence, causing Jongin to jolt and almost drops the book in his lap.

The sight of a smiling cow logo is what greets him.

***

When Baekhyun comes around, Jongin changes his clothes in the locker room and packs up his stuff, finished for the evening. Baekhyun is three years older than him, already done with his bachelor but is doing his housemanship training before continuing with his postgrad in medicine, although Jongin can’t recall in what specialization. He may not look like he could run a hospital, with his constant yawns and hair that looks like it hasn't been combed for weeks, but Jongin knows how appearances are a total deception. Baekhyun is that kind of friend in which his presence makes you feel at ease; the older boy has that effect on people it seems.

Whenever there’s Baekhyun, Chanyeol is there too. Chanyeol is the former’s boyfriend, working as a teacher at some school. Being friends with Baekhyun automatically makes Chanyeol Jongin’s friend too, and Chanyeol is more an active talker than Baekhyun is, but that’s probably because the latter is always sleepy.

Coming out of the locker room, he spots Baekhyun leaning over the counter with his head on his folded arms, already snoring. He latches on his backpack strap while walking over to the sleeping boy, ruffling his hair. “G’night, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun hums in reply, giving a lazy wave without looking up, and Jongin goes off to the doors, bell chiming. He sees Chanyeol smoking outside, and pats his shoulder.

“Hey dude. Going home?” Chanyeol grins, puffs of smoke escaping his lips. He always lingers around for a bit after dropping Baekhyun off.

“Yeah. See you around.”

The air is slightly humid and chilly, with fall just around the corner and the heat wave coming to its end. Good, because Jongin doesn't like summer. He prefers it when it’s cold and he likes to dress warmly because of it, not the scorching heat that melts his skin making his shirts damp with sticky perspiration.

He walks into a passageway between two rows of houses, a shortcut he’d learnt when he was still getting around. The alley opens up to a few complexes of low cost apartments; the paint chipping off the old walls and a few bulbs flickering on and off, a bit eerie but Jongin’s used to it. Old, but just good he wouldn't have his hard-earned money on anywhere else.

He lets his eyes wander and appreciate the night scenes; old people hanging out at the infamous noodle hawker stall and towards kids loitering outside the complex, playing video games perhaps. The kids probably belong to that orphanage just across the apartment building. He thought of stopping by the stall and eat some noodles before deciding he’s still full.

So tonight, he just passes by, needing that last minute review before a test tomorrow morning. But just as he’s about to enter the building, he makes a double take at the bus stop located in front of the entrance of the old complex.

It’s that boy that asked for almond milk earlier, swinging his legs to and fro while slumping on the bench, feet barely reaching the ground. He’s looking around, eyes heavy while hands fiddling with the cancer pack though he doesn't have one lit on his lips. Jongin normally doesn't pay any heed to what people around him are up to, so he decides to just ignore him as he resumes his pace.

But somehow the boy spots him in the corner of his eye, and he frowns, tilting his head to get a better view of that familiar guy. Jongin looks away and quickens his pace, but not quick enough because he hears footsteps rushing to him and a hand tugging on his backpack, making Jongin twist around to snatch the bag from falling to the ground. He’s about to tell him off and maybe slide in a word or two for pulling on his backpack like that but the boy beats him to it.

“Mister, do you live here?”

Jongin’s words die in his throat, slightly surprised at how the boy looks determined or something alike. “I do, but why are you—”

“C-can I sleep over?”

“What— _excuse me_?” Jongin squeaks, taking a cautious step back because this doesn't look good. “We don't know each other. Go back to your own place.” With that, he turns on his heels and headed to the stairs.

“Please, mister?” He hears the boy pleads, but Jongin pretends he doesn't hear it as he takes two steps at a time, silently praying the boy doesn't follow him or anything. Worrying that the shorter male has a knife or something, Jongin’s feet travel faster, letting out a breath of relief when he doesn't hear footsteps behind him. He probably gives up already.

He fishes for his keys, twisting the knob and the door opens with a loud squeak. Trying very hard to ignore the nagging in his chest, he drops his bag on his worn out couch, dragging his feet to his room.

***

Already had dinner back in the store, Jongin doesn't waste any more time after taking a shower, opting to open his laptop to finish that paper due tomorrow. He leaves the TV on, lowering the volume to just enough to accompany him since it gets eerily quiet in this particular apartment complex.

His phone beeps, and while reviewing what he just wrote in his word document, he mindlessly grabs his phone from the other end of the couch. It's a text from his brother, asking if he’s free this coming weekend. Jongin gives an instant reply that no, he’s not. He then adds asking his brother if their father sent him money again. He doesn’t bother waiting for a reply.

Two hours into writing his paper, his eyes have grown tired with the constant exposure to the screen lighting, as well as fatigue. He knows it’s past his usual time to sleep but he can’t retire in peace without finishing this paper first.

Hitting the save option, Jongin gets off the couch and does some stretches, groaning when he hears his joints pop. _Gosh, that was nice_. He walks into the kitchen, hoping to find something to refresh himself, but only ends up seeing instant coffee. _I guess that’ll have to do_.

While waiting for the water to boil, Jongin leans against the counter and stares outside the window, wondering if that kid had gone home. He thinks nothing else of it as he rolls the blinds down, proceeding with making his coffee. He can faintly hear thunders rumbling outside, although it’s not currently raining.

Bringing his mug over to the coffee table, he goes back to work, still leaving the TV on. It’s almost 1, and since his paper has about 3k words to go, he doesn't stall even for a second. The anchorwoman in the breaking news continues to read the headlines in the dead of the midnight, dissolving into white noise.

_“…It’s been reported that the last sighting of the only child of the Director of D.O. Hotels, was at his school campus at 4 p.m., and his classmates claim that they do not know where he went afterwards…”_

***


	2. Exposed

Jongin is jolted awake by the sounds of the clapping thunder, lightning flashes can be seen from his balcony. He must’ve dozed off while trying to finish that paper since his laptop is still left opened on the coffee table, and his coffee half empty. _Useless caffeine_.

Tiredly rubbing his face, he leans forward and checks if the document is saved, which it thankfully is. After saving it in his thumbdrive, Jongin shuts down his laptop and tucks it safely in its bag.

The thunderstorm outside looks pretty bad. Jongin hurries to close the sliding door, not wanting rain to make it into his apartment. The TV is still on, showing some melodrama that he’s never even heard of. He takes the remote and switches it off.

Bringing his already cold half-drank coffee to the kitchen, he dumps it in the sink, opting to wash it the next day. For now, sleep is already creeping around his eyelids, threatening to shut.

He throws himself into bed with mild doubt.

*

The storm doesn't recede anytime soon, and despite trying to get some really needed sleep, Jongin can’t seem to do just that. It’s the stupid nagging in his chest again.

Getting up the bed, Jongin looks out the window, at the rain hitting it. So cold, he thinks as he hugs himself to keep warm. He sits like that for a while, scowling to himself until finally letting out a groan.

He immediately climbs off the bed and grabs the nearest sweater.

*

It’s even colder outside.

Locking the door behind him, Jongin then heads towards the staircase with an umbrella in hold. As he reaches the ground floor, careful not to step into any wet puddles, he makes a brief walk to the entrance gates.

The whole area is so quiet if not for the storm. The street is empty too, the smell of rain wafting everywhere. He goes towards the bus stop in a haste.

The rain blurs everything in sight and the streetlights have never been that sufficient at night, but Jongin sees it; a black figure balling up on the bench.

He jogs over to the bus stop, finally out of the rain. As he approaches the balled up boy, he notices how the whole figure is shaking.

“Hey,” Jongin calls, sneaking a cautious glance at the boy’s face. “Hey, kid. Wake up.” He tries again, raising his voice a bit louder over the sounds of the storm.

After a couple of seconds, the boy stirs in his sleep, blinking away and finally registers the face in front of him. He instantly sits up, shivering. “M-Mister, can I please—”

Jongin sees his small figure shaking, and he has a really brief moment of self-loathing.

*

He lets the boy enter first before he drains the wet umbrella outside. After locking the door, he turns only to see the boy standing before him, looking lost. The hoodie makes him appear even smaller than he already is. His face looks pale, lips chapped, and he’s still shivering.

Without a word, Jongin grabs his upper arm and leads him to the bathroom, leaving him there to get some of his old clothes for him. When he returns to the bathroom, the boy is still standing awkwardly in there. He hands out the clothes to him.

“There’s still some hot water left,” Jongin informs him. “Change first. Talk later.”

The boy quietly nods.

*

Jongin almost nods off on the couch while waiting for that strange boy to change. When he hears timid footsteps approaching him, he shakes his head and stands up.

The boy now has some colour to his face rather than the ghastly pale just now. Jongin’s shirt looks big on him and it effectively exposes some skin of his chest and his collarbones, both tinged with that red after the hot shower. Jongin’s eyes travel upwards to have another pair of wide eyes staring back at him expectantly.

Sighing, Jongin wants to get this over fast. “Look, I’m tired so I’m not gonna say anything about this until I figure this out, okay? I hope you don't try and kill me in my sleep. You can take the couch.”

Silently, the boy nods, and Jongin takes it as his cue to go to bed, finally feeling his chest lighter.

***

_Wednesday_

  
That morning, after taking a shower and getting clothed for classes, Jongin almost forgets about that boy outside.

It’s bright out, and despite classes not starting in one more hour, Jongin gets up early to make a final review of his paper, as well as dealing with that kid.

Once stepping out of his bedroom, he glances at his couch, watching how the boy is already awake, seeming to have made himself at home as he’s watching the television. _Is he serious right now?_

Jongin clears his throat, successfully gaining the boy’s attention as the latter quickly stands up stiffly, as if just caught red-handed. “M-mister.”

“It’s Jongin. I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” He chucks his chin at the television, and the boy’s gaze follows. When he scrambles to find the remote, Jongin stops him with a simple “Leave it.”

The elder male goes to the kitchen to fix himself coffee and a light breakfast, taking into consideration the boy in the living room. Meanwhile, the boy sits back on the couch, mindlessly switching the channels—

_“—last night. The police has sent out several teams in search of the son of the Director of the largest hotel chain in South Korea and—”_

He quickly switches the channel, eyes growing wide at the shock.

“Hey.”

Almost jumping out of surprise, the boy looks to where the man calls for him, silently hoping he doesn't catch that bit of the news.

“Have something to eat.”

*

Jongin can’t help but stare as the boy practically inhales all of the omelette rice he made for him. He doesn't even manage half of his coffee yet when the boy’s plate is all cleared up.

“I guess boys that are still growing eat that much, huh.”

The boy hangs his head, probably in embarrassment. “I’m a grown-up.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, sure you are,” Jongin retorts. _Stubborn as a child, you are._

Jongin collects the empty plates and brings them to the sink, draining them with water first before foaming them up. “You better go back home, kid. It’s not nice to stay in a stranger’s home for too long. I don't have anything to offer.”

He hears the creaking of a chair against the floor and when he knows it, the boy has grabbed onto his arm, almost causing him to drop the plates.

“Mister,” He starts with an exasperated tone. “I’ll do anything but please just let me stay here for a while. I don't want to go back—” He cuts himself off. “Please please please let me stay here for a while. I’ll do anything. The dishes, the laundry, cleaning up; anything. _Please_.”

Jongin can only gape at the pleading boy, his grip on his bicep shaky. Sighing, he closes the tap water and turns to him. “Look, kid, I don't know what the hell is going on but I’m not gonna jeopardize my own safety just because you ran away from home.”

The boy widens his eyes at this. “Mister, I d-didn’t—”

“Go back home. Your parents must be worried sick by now. I’ve let you stayed here one night and hope you've reflected everything you need to.” He shrugs the hand off of him and resumes doing the dishes, dismissing the boy. He grows quiet and Jongin almost thinks he’s given up when—

“You’re so heartless.”

He hears the boy mutter beside him, and Jongin can only scoff in disbelief. When he turns to scold him, he’s met with the sound of a door slamming and he notices it is his bedroom. “Wha— If I were _so_ heartless as you said, I would’ve left you to freeze outside last night!” He shouts so the boy hears him, knowing by now he’s being childish himself. “And that’s _my_ bedroom!”

Huffing, he finally dries his hands and looks at the clock. “Shit, I’m late.”

*

As he waits for the bus, he can’t stop being furious over that kid over at his place. _Who does he think he is? Crashing at a broke guy’s place like that and calling me heartless. Ungrateful little shit._ Classes have not even started and he feels an oncoming headache already. Should he have brought him to the police? He probably should have. Why didn't he think of it earlier? Could’ve saved him from all that trouble.

After finishing high school, it was Jongin’s choice to move out of his parents’ house and lived on his own. He only has one elder brother who’s already working and married, and he’s never that close with any of his relatives to play with their little children. Therefore, it’s safe to say he has no idea how to deal with a growing teenager like that boy just now.

Speaking of, Jongin has no idea what his name is.

Oh, screw it. Later, as soon as classes end, he’s going to bring him to the police. Wait, he still has a job, though.

“Why the hell did I take him in last night?” Jongin places his head in his hands and groans, earning a weird look from an old man beside him.

*

As he makes it to the convenience store, Yoojung is already packing her stuff up, getting ready to get off her shift. Jongin first met her while applying for the job at the store, and the latter seemed to be doing the same. They’re not exactly on conversational terms, but Jongin thinks she’s an okay person, a bit of a slacker, but okay.

For the rest of his shift, Jongin can’t seem to get his head off about the situation in his house, period. If the frequent customers noticed his lack of attention, they didn't care enough to call him out to it. Even when he tries to read up for his quiz the next day, he can't get a word through his brain without swerving to intrusive thoughts such as the possibilities of that kid racking through his possessions and running away with it, leaving him penniless. Being conned by a middle schooler is the last thing Jongin wants to happen, not when he’s still working his ass off to get this degree.

He ends his shift with slight anxiety in his chest, and a plastic bag full of snacks and coke.

***

Jongin hesitates in front of his own doorstep, making a frustrated noise to himself as he fishes for the keys from his backpack. As he swings the door open, he’s torn between feeling annoyed or relieved seeing the extra pair of white sneakers still there at the entranceway. In fact, the television is on, and he can hear some crunching noises from where he stands.

As he approaches the living room, the sight that greets him leaves him speechless, because there on his couch is the said boy, laying on his stomach while snacking on _his_ potato chips, chilling like it’s _his_ own house.

“So, not only you freeload, you also decided it’s a good idea to empty _my_ kitchen?”

The boy gives him a lazy glance. “You gonna starve a minor in your own house? It’s not like you have much in your kitchen for me to salvage. Oh by the way, some aunt next door gave some side dishes.”

His eyes widen in horror. “You opened the door?!”

“That’s what you do when people ring your doorbell…?”

Jongin curses internally, willing himself to calm the hell down and think of something. The fact that the boy opened the door means that his neighbour knows he’s not currently alone. The said aunt always gives him some side dishes whenever she made too much for her family. If she has a loud mouth, word can spread in no time. Jongin can’t deal. And then he remembers.

“You said it.”

“What?” The boy looks up confusedly.

“You’re a minor. You said so yourself.”

A short silence ensues. “So what if I am.”

“I sold the cigarettes to you. You lied.”

“And you’re telling me that was your first time selling it to a minor?”

Bull’s eye. Jongin already feels fatigued from this conversation. “You’re awfully snarky for a kid that just ran away from home.”

That seems to hit a sore spot because the boy doesn't have anything to retaliate to that. Curiously, Jongin sneaks a look at his reaction.

The boy is gnawing at his bottom lip in what appears to be worry, eyes roaming to the outside of the balcony.

Sighing, Jongin cards his fingers through his hair before heading to the bedroom. Not even fully opening the door yet, he gasps horrifyingly at the disaster that is his own bed. The sheets are rumpled and hanging over the edge of the mattress haphazardly. Some of his pillows have fallen. Jongin _never_ leaves the bedroom without making the bed first thing in the morning. _Ever_.

“Hey, I’m gonna take these cookies.” Jongin hears the boy outside, followed by a rustling sound presumed to be him rummaging through the plastic bag.

Jongin feels like whimpering.

*

It’s almost a fascinating sight until Jongin is reminded of his situation. The boy before him practically inhales his dinner, leaving the plate clean in no time. Jongin feels full just watching him, his rice barely two bites touched.

As the boy puts down his chopsticks and reaches for the glass of water (because Jongin’s a cheapskate and refuses to stock his fridge with flavoured drinks), he almost looks embarrassed. “Th-Thank you for the food.”

Halfway through his dinner, Jongin decides he’s full and sets down his own chopsticks. He takes a small breath, looking at the boy with a determination a broke college student can muster. “I need to be able to refer to you as something, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Your name.”

Jongin catches him wide-eyed, followed with a shaky gaze, as if trying to avoid eye contact. He narrows his eyes at him suspiciously.

“…Soo.” Comes out a mumble. It’s almost inaudible if not for Jongin’s attention on him.

“That’s it? No ‘Soo Ga’ or ‘Soo Hyun’ or something?”

The boy stares pleadingly at him in response. Jongin doesn't know what he’s trying to plead for.

Leaning back in his chair, Jongin takes a deep, deliberate breath, continuing to scrutinize him. “Okay then, _Soo_.” He starts, watching how the boy’s gaze flickers up at him at the name. “You’ve had your dinner, and I’m gonna need you to come with me after this.”

‘Soo’ blinks at him in puzzlement. “Where to?”

Without a word, Jongin stands up and gathers the dirty plates before bringing them to the sink. Letting the tap water run over them, he hears the unmistakable creak of a chair scraping against the floor before desperate footsteps stomp towards him. He feels the material of his shirt being tugged in a slightly harsh manner, almost pulling his arm from doing the dishes.

“You don't mean the police, right? You’re not taking me to the police, right?” The boy’s quivering voice nearly evokes sympathy in Jongin’s part, but he’s not about to be swayed by a teenager’s cries. “Please tell me you’re not going to bring me back home. I don't want to go back!”

“Then what do you plan to do? Stay at my place for the rest of your life? You didn't even go to school today, just _what_ do you plan to do—” Jongin takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “Look, I have my own college to worry about, I can’t just feed you just because you ran away from home. I’ve tolerated you enough by not straight up calling the police to come and get you here.”

Jongin’s stern expression is probably what makes Soo looks defeated as he is, although not without the usual immature stubbornness. He lets his head fall, his small fists clenched at his sides. His shoulders look like they’re shaking, but Jongin hopes the boy won’t suddenly shed some waterworks. He’s not about to deal with an emotional teenager right now.

“…One week.” He hears the boy mutter. Jongin can only frown.

“This is not a negotiation, you know that—”

“One week.” The boy cuts him off, finally looking up at the taller with a profound tenacity, his lips set into a thin line. “Just give me one week, and I’ll leave.”

There is a long, pregnant silence between the two of them, both engaged in a silent contest to see who would give in first.

_Why must this happen to me?_

“Fine.” Jongin says as he already questions his sanity, turning off the tap water in resolve. In the corner of his eye, the boy lets his shoulders sag in what appear to be relief. “But I’ll let you know that you’ve gotta earn your stay.”

He can almost hear the question running through the shorter male’s head.

“Start with the dishes. I’ve got a quiz tomorrow.”

*

With the television off, the small apartment seems smaller than it really is with the silence engulfing them. Apart from the sounds of papers rustling and pen grazing on them, there isn’t much white noise to be considered comfortable.

‘Soo’ has finished the dishes a while ago and is currently perched on the other side of the couch, since the college student only has one couch. He’s staring at the black screen of the television, itching to turn it on to cure his boredom, but he’s not about to offend the other male still studying diligently beside him.

“Don’t you have your phone with you?” Jongin’s tired voice sounds beside him, and when ‘Soo’ turns to him, he’s still scanning the essay he’s written with a concentrated gaze.

“It died.” He says, receiving a hum as his reply. Jongin rolls his eyes.

“Use my charger. It’s on my nightstand in my room.”

Jongin resumes his reading, books spread open and papers lying everywhere on the top of the small coffee table, some even making it on the floor. As his back starts to ache from slouching over the short table for too long, he resorts to sitting on the floor Indian style.

The whooshing sprint to the bedroom makes Jongin snort.

*

Jongin hovers his thumbpad over the green phone symbol, blinking his tired eyes at the triple digit number. He has never had a reason to dial this particular number ever. His books are left open on the table as he slumps over the couch in fatigue. It’s almost 2 in the morning.

He presses the home button.

Deciding to retire for the night, he heads in the general direction of his bedroom, feet dragging over the floor. He rubs at his tired eyes with one hand, another hand pushing the door open mindlessly. Yawning, he sees the boy on his knees, looking almost frantic as he empties out his entire backpack on the floor. Among the school supplies messily scattered, Jongin notices the cancer pack is yet to be rid of its plastic seal.

“What are you looking for?” He questions, earning a jump of surprise from the shorter boy as he looks up at Jongin with those wide eyes, his phone in his hand. Jongin has never noticed those eyes look so big from this angle and it throws him off guard for a moment.

Going back to searching the pockets of his backpack, the boy doesn't say anything else, and if he notices Jongin’s disconcertion he’s made a point not to acknowledge it. Jongin tries to sneak a look at what the boy’s looking for, only noticing the textbook among other things, worn around the edges and its cover read Calculus III.

“Wait, you’re a high school senior? I thought you’re still in middle school.” The sudden enlightenment yet fails to garner his attention.

Not exactly satisfied with the lack of a verbal response, Jongin in the state that he is, snatches the cigarette box from the floor and finally getting the boy to turn to him.

The taller male holds it up in the air, an eyebrow raised. “Back when you came to the store and I sold you this? My mistake. I’m confiscating this.”

“I paid it with my money!” Soo tries to snatch it, the lack of centimetres clearly not helping.

“I’ll buy it from you then, since refunds aren’t possible in the store.” Jongin shrugs. He doesn’t even smoke, though. Shoving the pack of cigarettes down his back pocket, he repeats his query earlier. “What were you looking for?”

The glare given his way doesn't intimidate Jongin in the slightest. “Nothing.”

“Yeah? Did your parents drop you a call or thirty for not returning home yet?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“So is your presence in this house but did I bring you to the police or even call them to get you?” That successfully shuts him up and Jongin hides a victorious grin before turning on his heel. “Go to sleep.”

Just as he’s walked a couple of steps, an “Ah!” catches Jongin by surprise and he turns his head to see what’s it about when the boy suddenly grabs at his foot, lifting it and eventually causes the elder male to stumble onto the floor. His fast reflex manages to make him land on his palms instead of head first.

“What the fuck—”

Jongin turns to the boy only to see him meticulously switching the SIM card of his phone as if he didn't just claw at Jongin’s leg. As the boy presses the home button for a couple seconds to wait for the logo to appear on his screen, he sends Jongin a meek look. Jongin returns it with a ‘what the hell was that’ face, too flabbergasted to form any coherent sentence.

“It-It got stuck on the hems of your pants.” Comes the answer in a small voice.

_No ‘sorry’?_ Jongin wants to ask but a speechless scoff comes out instead. He merely watches the boy fiddle with the phone some more, keying in his passcode. Only when Jongin looks closely does he notice the cuts on his palms.

“Were you hurt?” He kneels beside the boy and grabs the startled boy’s hands, inspecting them, his acquired hospitality showing. The edges still look a little reddish even though there’s no bleeding. They look fresh.

“Um,” ‘Soo’ tries to pull his hands back but Jongin’s grip remains firm.

“Did you disinfect it?” Jongin asks him, his tone assertive yet calm.

‘Soo’ slowly shakes his head.

“You could’ve gotten an infection. They look like they had bled some.” Jongin then releases him before getting up. “Stay here.”

Going into his bathroom, he searches for his first aid kit in the drawers. He’s never had much reason to use it - he’s only used it once when he accidentally cut his index finger while slicing some carrots.

When he steps out of the bathroom, the boy is still in the same position; seated on the floor on his shins with his palms facing up on his thighs. He looks so small from the back.

“Did you apply anything to it when you first got them?”

“No.” ‘Soo’ says, splaying and balling his palms in a fidgeting manner.

“They look like they hurt a lot. How did you get them?” Jongin begins with taking out a bottle of antibiotic and a cotton bud.

“What’s that?” The boy asks instead of answering Jongin’s question.

“Neomycin. An antibiotic.” Jongin prepares the cotton bud and asks the younger male to splay his palms to him. “Whenever the skin is abraded, most people tend to leave them be to heal by itself. But if you do that, the healing takes a longer time and if you’re unlucky you might even get infections from it.” Jongin explains to him, carefully dabbing the ointment at the cuts. He does it on the right palm first, ensuring he leaves no cut behind before moving to another palm. The slight tug causes the boy’s overly long sleeve to slide up to his elbow, revealing his wrists. Jongin widens his eyes at the sight.

“Soo,” He starts, mentally forming words before speaking them out. “Do you… do you have issues with um, self-inflicted pain?”

“Huh?” He looks down on his own hands. “Oh. No. That’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” Jongin says patiently, still tending to the cuts. “But it would be best if you seek a professional.”

“No, I’m telling the truth! I didn’t do that on myself.” The boy huffs. “It was an accident. All of this.” He gestures to his hands.

Jongin is still skeptical about it but believes him eventually. Done with the ointment, he rummages through the kit for some band-aids.

“You seem knowledgeable.” Soo comments offhandedly.

He finds what he’s looking for and returns to the palms. “This is basic.”

“What degree are you taking?” The boy asks, observing Jongin who’s placing the band-aid over each cut. He’s very meticulous, even making sure to cut the band aids into smaller strips for more slender and stunted cuts.

“I’m majoring in dentistry.” He then moves to the wrists.

“Oh?” He exclaims before going quiet. Jongin looks up to see what’s the deal only to be met with the boy biting and showing all his teeth, but not particularly directed at him.

Jongin lets out a snort. “Nice teeth. Wore braces before?”

Realizing the act, Soo instantly closes his mouth and looks away. “No.”

“Then you must’ve never had bad habits while growing up.” Jongin says distractingly, keeping away all the things back in the kit. “Or just good genes.”

“Habits?”

“Thumb-sucking, pencil biting, stuff like that. It gradually shifts the normal positioning of the teeth, and sometimes the palate.”

“Oh.” Soo offers. After a moment, he asks: “Is it nice?”

Jongin raises an eyebrow. “Thumb-sucking?”

“No— I meant the degree.”

“Oh… sure, I guess? I mean, I do have fun in some areas but mostly it’s demanding, more so now that I’m in my clinical year.”

“Is it what you’ve been wanting to do?”

Jongin gives him a calculating look, unsure of what the younger male wants to hear. “I… guess? I mean, my father’s a dermatologist and my mother’s a researcher. I have an older brother who owns a clinic in the city. I think it’s just right I do something fairly similar? I don’t really have any other interests.”

“Then that makes you pretty well off.” Soo remarks. “Why do you live like you’re trying to make ends meet? Is it because of the pressure?”

Pressure? Jongin thinks. No, it’s not pressure. He doesn’t think it’s pressure. He’s always just lived as if he’s his own man. As he stares at the awaiting boy obtusely, the only thing that comes to his mind is that, no, this boy doesn’t understand. He’s only a high school senior who has yet to be exposed to the reality of the undergraduate and unemployment world.

“When you’re older,” Jongin says, his tone resolved. “You’ll understand.”

“You can’t be that old.” Soo chirps, studying Jongin’s face in a way that makes him a bit uncomfortable. “Twenty four?”

“Twenty two.”

“See? You make yourself sound like you’re nearing your thirties or something.” Soo says, getting up and heading out. “I’m going to sleep like you were _so_ stressing me to.”

Not even a thank you, Jongin scoffs. He has an instinctive feeling that the boy has a lot more sass than he decides to show, especially since their first encounter at the store.

He soon gets up to stash the first aid kit back to safety in his drawers before washing up for the night. As he splashes some cold water to his face and stares at himself through the mirror, a lot of thoughts rack through his tired mind.

  
***

_Thursday_

The morning is quiet.

After washing up and getting clothed for classes, Jongin comes out of his bedroom to fix breakfast. For two. Hard to get used to it.

Just like yesterday morning, the television is on, and Jongin half expects the boy to laze on the couch and munching on his potato chips. He’s mildly amazed that’s not the case.

Instead, he’s sitting on the floor in front of the glass door at the balcony, his head hung low. Jongin can’t see whether he’s just admiring the view of an old man reading a newspaper in a wifebeater on the balcony of the block across, or something else.

“Hey,” Approaching the said boy, he half crouches to see his face—

\--Only to catch the startled boy’s eyes pooled with tears, and his nose and ears reddening at the tip. Well, this certainly is not what Jongin expects to see first thing in the morning.

Carelessly, the shorter male wipes at his eyes and relentlessly taps at the home button of his phone, before deciding belatedly to put it on sleep altogether. He sniffles a bit, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

Jongin frowns, not knowing what to do. If there comes a day he’d be able to comfort an emotional teenager, then it’s probably the day of the apocalypse. So he just returns to standing, silently watching the boy wipes his eyes albeit a bit harshly, as if embarrassed and angry at the same time to be found in that state.

“Go home,” He finds himself talking, not failing to observe the way the boy grips at his phone, a hardened stare fixed at the blank screen. “Back to your family.”

Sniffling, ‘Soo’ croaks out a stubborn “No.”

The taller male sighs, not wanting to further the argument. It’s apparent to the boy too, how he doesn't seem like he wants to talk about it. Not that Jongin’s curious or anything.

*

All evidences of being sad gone, Jongin finds the boy wolfing down his breakfast, almost scaring him when he himself attempts slow and tentative bites from across the table. Back when Jongin was his age, he doesn't remember ever eating his meals like a deprived child.

Wait.

Jongin sneaks a glance at the white sneakers the boy came with, all white and pristine and void of tears, although a hint of mud is there for braving through the rain on the first day they met. He then brings his gaze to the boy in front of him, the skin on his forearms looking flawless and well-moisturized, not that Jongin knows how a good skin truly looks like. The boy also seems well-fed, his limbs looking rightfully full. He’s faintly reminded of the fact that this boy brings a black card around in his wallet, but chose to not use it back at the store. His school uniform belongs to that of a private academy, not around the area as far as Jongin knows.

Apart from his barbaric manner when it comes to eating, everything about the boy screams _loaded_. He’s not a deprived child. He even has the sass of a spoiled brat. But then again, he could be wrong.

Laying his spoon down slowly, he clears his throat. “You—You’re not—”

The boy looks up momentarily, cheeks full and a hint of sauce at the corner of his lips.

“I mean, you’re not the son of some rich chairman or something like that right? The country isn’t looking for you, right?”

The boy chokes. He actually _chokes_.

“ _Shit_ , you _are_.” Jongin gasps, watching the boy sputtering a cough.

“This doesn’t change anything—”

“This changes everything! I’m fucked. Do you know what you’re getting yourself into? Shit, I think this is all over the news already.” _How could I have missed that?_ Abandoning his meal, he goes over to the television, currently showing a morning cartoon, and quickly flips to the morning news.

_“-still shows no trace nor record of his whereabouts. The police has increased their labor-”_

The picture attached to the news is none other than Soo in his high school uniform, and there on the heading of the news read : _“Do Kyungsoo, son of Director of D.O. Hotels, still missing”_

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jongin breathes. As if it could somehow repress his fear, he turns off the television and drops the remote on the couch. It’s quiet now, and he’s not sure what the boy’s feeling, but Jongin can’t bring himself to speak just yet. _Fuck, I’m an abductor, aren't I? I mean sure, I’ve been an abductor from the beginning but this is actually serious._

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” The boy has the nerve to say that.

Jongin slaps a palm over his forehead, trying to reduce the headache. “Soo- no, Kyungsoo.” He starts, his voice almost muted. “It’s in our best favours that you return to your home.”

“If you’re worried the police will find you, don’t.” Kyungsoo states, now standing up from the dining table. “I’m not that stupid.”

“That’s not the issue here!” Jongin raises his voice at him, flailing his hands. “Right now, I’m as close to an abductor here- no, I’m pretty sure I _am_ an abductor. Do you know what you could get _me_ into? Your parents have a name and if I ever slip up, I will not only go to jail, my name will be completely blacklisted from ever getting a job! This isn’t just about you now. I have my own life, you know that? I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life with a tarnished reputation just because I kept ‘that rich kid’ in my house!”

He sees the visible flinch of the boy’s shoulders and feels a slight regret for yelling like that, but he’s got to bring his point across since he’s sure it’s hard to get through that thick head of his.

“Fine,” Kyungsoo bites out, his eyes forcing out a hard glare but still watery nonetheless. He’s still a kid, after all. “Call the police, then.” Wordlessly, he stomps off to that unused room Jongin made as a store room then, slamming the door shut.

_Good, so he decides not to sulk in my room now unlike the other day_ , Jongin mentally berates. He looks around the living room for his phone and snatches it, opening up the dialer, but his fingers still hover over the digits hesitantly.

Why exactly is he hesitating, though? Cat’s out of the bag now and Jongin has more reasons not to keep him around despite the useless deal. Kyungsoo is at that kind of age where his rationale is still pretty much developing, and Jongin being the older one should know better.

He should know better, but what’s stopping him from doing the right thing?

***


	3. Dawn

Jongin is standing in front of the door of the spare room, sighing as he raps his knuckles on it. “Kyungsoo, are you awake in there?” No answer. Jongin waits for a few more seconds to hear any sound that the other boy might make. Still none. “It’s 7. Did you eat lunch at all?”

“Go away.” Comes the response, muffled by the door separating them.

Jongin takes a deep breath. How does one deal with a teenager again? “I’m not gonna call the police, if that’s what you’re worried about. Come out and I’ll cook you something.”

He doesn’t wait for the boy’s reply, and instead goes straight to the kitchen and opens the fridge. Tonight he plans on making beef stew. Getting the ingredients ready, Jongin hears the door, presumably of the spare room, creaks open. He pays it no heed, but silently smirks to himself in victory.

He’s halfway into boiling the stew when he realises the boy has yet to make his presence be seen in the living area. Jongin raises an eyebrow, peeking over at the space there. The television is not even on. Turning off the stove, he rinses his hands and dries them before walking over to the hallway. 

When he walks into the spare room and finds it empty, Jongin frowns. He then goes over to his own room by instinct, already pushing the door open. “Hey, are you in here—”

A high-pitched shriek is heard, followed by an article of clothing being thrown into his face. Jongin stops by the door, wondering what the hell is even going on, and why does this cloth smell so foreign—

“You could’ve knocked!” Is the only thing he heard before he was being pushed out of his _own_ room, with the shirt still draping over his entire face, successfully blocking his view as the door is shut in his face. And honestly Jongin doesn’t mind it that much because he kind of deserves that, but he feels his eye twitch when the door is locked from the inside. Funny.

Jongin doesn’t know why but he waits for another five seconds to pass for an extra measure before belatedly removing the article from his face. It reeks of sweat, and something else he can’t pinpoint, sure as heck the scent doesn’t belong to him. 

As if resolved, and with the mellow of an old man that he quite isn’t, he walks over to the laundry room to toss it into the hamper before moving back to the kitchen.

 

*

 

When the door finally opens, Jongin is already sitting on the dining table, a pot of already warm stew placed in the centre. He places his phone down and merely watches the boy trudge over to the chair across of him, looking somewhat bashful, but stubborn all the same. _Ah, a child’s ego_. Jongin isn’t fazed by that at all as much as he is fazed by the fact that this boy actually had the nerve to rummage through his closet. His Star Wars shirt is huge on Kyungsoo’s form, leaving a good portion of his collarbones and a peek of his chest exposed.

Jongin raises both his eyebrows at him, obviously questioning. 

“I took a shower?” Kyungsoo’s sentence ends in wavered confidence. “I ran out of your clothes to wear…"

“Of course, of course.” Jongin just nods and beckons for him to eat, his clean bowl placed in front of him. Jongin rises first to scoop his portion of rice before sitting back down. Subtly watching the younger male taking his own rice, Jongin starts digging in.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Halfway into their dinner, Kyungsoo speaks up, causing Jongin to almost choke on his rice. He looks up to see the boy looking at him with a determined yet unreadable gaze.

“Wh-What?”

“You’re still thinking of getting rid of me despite our deal.”

Jongin drops his chopsticks at the side of his bowl, staring down at his unfinished rice. Why must they always argue everytime they’re having their meals? This is the nth time Jongin lost his appetite this week. He peeks over to the other side of the table, and he can’t say the same for the teenager. His bowl is swept clean.

“You think that just because I’m younger than you, I’m stupid and that I’m acting rashly—”

“You’re a runaway, what makes you think you’re not already acting rashly?” Jongin cuts him off.

“Can we not bring up about how I got here? I’m a lot smarter than you take me to be. You’re looking down on me. I don’t appreciate it.”

“I also don’t appreciate how you’re literally here in _my_ space living however you like. You, a pure _stranger_.”

“Have you never once thought about how _you’re_ also a stranger to _me_? I threw myself at the very chance of a temporary bed and for all I know, you could be a rapist or a murderer or another group of kidnappers trying to squeeze some fat wad of cash out of my father in turn of letting me go and I’m sick of trying to get away with it every fucking time.”

Kyungsoo is slightly panting by the time he finished. Blinking in disbelief, Jongin studies the boy before him wordlessly. It’s only when Kyungsoo’s chair scrapes against the floor and the boy walks past him to the kitchen that Jongin found his tongue again. 

Jongin has half a mind to retaliate with how he’s the real victim here, but the last part of Kyungsoo’s sentence stops him from doing just that.

“Wait, you were _kidnapped_?” Jongin walks over to Kyungsoo who’s letting the tap water rinse his dishes off the stain before foaming it. “You were _kidnapped_ and you didn’t _bother_ going to the _police_?”

Kyungsoo scoffs and mutters under his breath. “Can you even trust the police these days…” Jongin catches it though, and feels something clicking in his head.

“Well, for all _I_ know, you could be bluffing to gain my sympathy to let you stay longer here. Do you think I’d easily believe that? Coming from a stranger?”

There’s a low clang of porcelain hitting against the stainless steel of the sink. Jongin expects an instant retaliation but it’s a few seconds longer than he would like until the boy turns to him with so much anger and frustration which has Jongin grimacing.

“Of course.” Kyungsoo scoffs out. “Nobody believes a kid.”

_Nobody believes a kid_.

A flash of familiarity crosses his mind, and before Jongin can get himself together, he hears the doors slamming close already.

 

***

***

 

 

Seventeen-year-old Jongin stood still in the middle of the class, at a loss of words.

“I’m calling my parents! Kim Jongin, you’re so done!” The girl yelled at him with tears in her eyes, being surrounded by her group of friends who were trying to console her.

Jongin took a hesitant step forward. “I—”

“Stay back, you asshole!”

“What is going on here?” Their homeroom teacher entered the class and went over to see what the ruckus was all about. In that moment, Jongin felt all eyes were on him, as if he just committed a gravely sin, one that Jongin was sure had nothing to do with.

The girl reported everything to the teacher in all her wailing mess, and Jongin wanted to retort that no, it wasn’t true. Jongin didn’t do such a thing. He would never do such a thing. He would never grope a girl’s behind let alone touch them. That’s just not him.

Next thing he knew, they were all seated in the headmaster’s room - Jongin’s parents  and himself at one side and the girl’s parents on the opposite side. The girl’s parents had a devastated look on them, sneering and degrading. Jongin felt so small, so helpless under their stares. Agreements were made, a slip of cheque was handed over, and the issue was resolved on the same day with no more threats of a legal war.

Back home, he was again seated with his parents, but on the dining table this time. His elder brother was still overseas for his post-grad, leaving them three together. Jongin was never a talkative kid, and dinner together was always sort of quiet, the peaceful and occasionally awkward one.

This time, the silence is heavy and downright suffocating. Jongin couldn’t bring himself to eat, his chopsticks just messing around with the food.

“I didn’t do it.” He said in a hushed voice, his head down. When he looked up, he wasn’t exactly shocked to see the disappointing faces of Mr. and Mrs. Kim. “I swear.”

“Jongin, honey, just finish your meal,” His mother said softly.

“You know how I am, mom. I would never do such a thing! Why are you believing that girl?”

“Jongin.” His father warned.

“She’s just walking all over me because she knew I wouldn’t dare step up—”

“Kim Jongin!” His father shouted, his gruff voice echoing along the hall, effectively silencing Jongin. “Finish your meal and go to your room.”

Utterly devastated, Jongin tossed his chopsticks down his plate and stood up, leaving the dining table and stomping his way up to his room.

Word spreads fast especially in high schools where students are always gossiping as a way to entertain themselves. Almost everyone knew of Jongin’s family background despite him never once mentioning about it. Consequently this led to some manipulative behaviour of some of the more eager students, with Jongin becoming their little pawn of sacrifice.

A series of hushed laughter always haunted him wherever he went, especially since he passed by the same girl who made the accusation against him.

“Nobody believes a kid.” The girl snickered to her friend. “Especially someone like him. What a total chump. I was so natural about it and as expected, he didn’t fight for himself at all.”

_Nobody believes a kid._  

The incident made Jongin a lot more closed off than he already was, and he hardly ever looked forward to going to school anymore. He wanted to graduate. Fast. Maybe start over again with college entrance exams. Whatever it was, he wanted to be in a place where no one knew who he was and where he came from, somewhere with people who mind their own business and has no time to nose into other people’s affairs.

With that, came the rather expected announcement to his parents that no, he would be studying in a smaller city and no, he didn’t need pocket money. He would make it on his own, and he had asked them to leave him be.

Jongin is his own man.

 

***

***

 

 

_Friday_

 

 

Kyungsoo’s gone.

The couch is empty, so is the spare room and the kitchen. Jongin laughs to himself. “Unbelievable.” That’s one less person in this house, just like it always should be. Jongin should only tend to Jongin, no one else.

It should stay like this.

He washes up and gets ready for the day. 

 

*

 

“Good morning. Please, follow me.”

Jongin leads his patient to an unoccupied cubicle, asking the old man to be seated at the dental chair. He sits on the doctor stool asks him some protocol questions before donning his PPE*. Sehun enters the cubicle after a few moments and takes the case file, ready to assist Jongin.

After some thorough examinations, and a few more questions asked, Jongin arrives to a diagnosis and asks Sehun to get their lecturer for them to cross-check. 

“Do you think I need a new denture, son?”

Jongin faces the patient and smiles, even though it’s covered by his protective mouth mask. “Rather than a new denture, your current denture just needs to be modified to conform to the new structure of your palate and gums.”

“Ah, that’s good. I don’t think I’d have the money to afford a new denture.” The old man laughs, wrinkles forming from the corners of his eyes as well as the nasolabial folds. He seems lively even for his old age.

“Don’t worry, uncle. I don’t think it’s likely.” Just as he says that, Sehun arrives with their lecturer. 

 

*

 

“Did you hear about that missing boy? It’s all over the news.”

Jongin sighs, discarding his PPE and throwing them into the respective bins before sanitizing his hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“The family offers a huge cash prize to anyone who can find him and return him in one piece.” Sehun whistles, impressed. “Man, if I could win that, I’d never have to worry about repaying my student loan for my entire life.”

Jongin perks up in curiosity. “How much exactly?” 

Sehun smirks much to his chagrin. “A whopping 200 million won.”

“Fucking hell.”

“I know.” Sehun says. “But it’s most likely going to the police, since they’re the ones making all that effort.” 

Jongin lapses into his own thoughts. Kyungsoo’s family must be deadly rich if they’re willing to give that much cash to find him. But then again, what’s some measly cash if it means having their son back home to safety? Jongin of course has little to no idea what it’s like becoming a parent, and it doesn’t help the fact that he has a history with his own parents.

“It’s becoming the nation’s worry the past few days. I would flip too if someone from my family disappears just like that.” Sehun comments, going over to the next cubicle to bother his other friends and leaving Jongin in that cubicle alone. The clinic is less busier in the afternoon so the number of patients are less as well, leaving them with some free time to either chat or study while waiting to be assigned to a case.

_Well_ , Jongin thinks to himself, the ‘nation’s worry’ was just at his place until this morning.

 

*

 

Since he stayed back at the college library to finish an assignment, by the time he got out, it’s already dusk. He briskly walked all the way to the convenience store since his shift starts in less than 10 minutes.

On the way there though, he catches sight of a familiar black Star Wars shirt overlaid by a blue sweater, its hood raised and he has on his mouth mask. Jongin scoffs to himself, paying no heed to him as he walks straight into the store. The boy probably fails to notice him too as he seems too caught up with the phone in his hand.

Jongin mans the cashier and occasionally checks on the figure still leaning against the wall of the bus stop, wondering just what the heck is he doing there, and where is he sleeping tonight.

He shakes off the thought as soon as it comes. Why does it matter where he’s sleeping tonight? The boy should’ve returned to his own home and then news should cover how he actually lost his way back after running away for some time while Jongin munched on some stale chips and changed the channel because it’s got nothing to do with him.

An hour into his shift, a van parks its way right in front of the store. Jongin then returns to the cashier after restocking some bottles of mineral water. The driver and his friend comes up and buys some cans of beer as well as a pack of cigarettes, tossing some cash onto the counter, to which Jongin politely takes it. While counting the change, his eyes visually scan these customers up and down. They look around mid-thirties, and the overall sketchy appearance doesn’t give him good vibes.

When they return to their van, the light automatically turns on as the van doors are opened, and Jongin can see a yellow vest. He knows what it is. It’s what the police always wear on patrol. 

_Strange_. If he was on patrol, he would’ve been wearing it, and he would’ve driven a police car instead of a black van. The two share a small exchange until the driver lowers his window and attempts to fix his side mirror-

No, he’s not fixing it. That’s not what he’s doing at all. He’s directing it so it reflects the view from the bus stop, or particularly, a person.

_“Can you even trust the police these days…”_

Jongin looks away, greeting their customer and scanning the items. It’s not his business anymore. The responsibility has never been his in the first place. He’s his own priority.

Screw this.

Panicked, Jongin steals Baekhyun’s cap, the latter still hunched over the cashier counter sleepily, having arrived there earlier than his usual shift. “Hey, gonna borrow this for a while.”

While exiting the store, he puts on the cap and makes sure to lower it so only his lower half of the face is seen. He heads towards the boy and makes sure to appear unsuspicious. He takes out his phone and unlocks it, lowering his cap some more. When he’s finally within the vicinity of the bus stop, he goes towards the seat closest to where Kyungsoo’s standing.

“Don’t do or say anything until I tell you so.” Jongin says as he mindlessly scrolls through his Instagram.

Expectedly, the younger boy startles at the sudden approach, but as soon as he sees it as Jongin, he fakes a cough. 

“And lower your hoodie some more.”

Kyungsoo heeds to him and does so without saying anything. He then turns his body to face the notice post on the pole bearing the bus stop sign, pretending to read it. “What’s wrong, Jongin?” He asks anyway despite Jongin’s earlier instruction.

Jongin locks his phone and puts it to his ear, turning so he’s facing Kyungsoo, but not directly. “I just saw someone suspicious. Wait it out a bit until my next instruction.”

“Is it the police?" 

Jongin keeps mum at that. “I can’t be so sure." 

“Can I see?”

“Black van, parked near the store I’m working at.” 

Kyungsoo starts walking around the bus stop, feigning boredom as his eyes subtly glance at the store. He quickly turns to face Jongin before muttering under his breath. “Fuck, that’s the same van.” 

“Same plate number?” Jongin still has his phone to his ear.

“I don’t remember the plate number, but it’s a similar van. How did you know it might be that van?”

“I’ll tell you that later. For now, take down the plate number— no wait, I’ll do it instead. Read it out for me, please.” He finally takes the phone away from his ear and proceeds to unlock it, going to the notes.

Kyungsoo reads it out easily, not having to worry about his lip movement since it’s covered by the mask.

“Got it.”

“Jongin, a bus is coming. Should we take it?”

“What— shit, my stuff’s still in the store.”

“Do you think they will still follow me even if I take the bus?”

“I- I don’t know, Kyungsoo.” Jongin bites his lip. _Think fast, you idiot._

“Jongin, _do we take the bus_?” The bus has already started to slow down near them, but none of them makes a move of expecting it. The next stop shouldn’t be too far from his place, right?

“Take it, but stop at the next stop.”

“Wouldn’t that be far from your place—”

“No more questions. Let’s go.” He finally moves up and approaches the stairs, trusting Kyungsoo to step up too. The bus isn’t crowded at all. There are a few ladies sitting in the front seats, and a man in a business attire at the back as well as an old granny. Jongin walks until he finds an empty seat farther at the back. As he sits, he urges Kyungsoo to sit in front of him when the younger male shoots him a puzzled look. 

The bus is already moving by the time Kyungsoo takes his seat. Jongin hunches over and rests his head against the back of the empty seat beside Kyungsoo. “I’ll just text my friend to keep my stuff at the store for me. Not much work for classes tomorrow.”

“Jongin, do you think they recognized me back there?”

“Can’t say. I just thought they looked suspicious.” Jongin hears the boy sigh, and releases his own as well. “We should talk about this at my place.”

Kyungsoo hears the dismissal in the elder’s tone so he just sits back and watches out the window.

 

*

 

“Shouldn’t have taken the bus, right?”

“Um,” Jongin opens up his GPS on his phone and types in the name of his apartment complex. The bus has dropped them and they came down looking like confused deers. “Says here that we’re about a 10 minute walk away.”

“Lead the way, then.” The boy crosses his arms, looking straight ahead as if bored.

Jongin sends him a look. “D-don’t do that.”

“Do what.”

“Patronizing me.”

“Wha- are you serious.”

“Shh, follow me.” Jongin ignores him in opt to follow the navigations on his phone. 

 

*

 

As soon as Jongin locks the door and turns around, the boy takes off his mouth mask and pulls back his hoodie. “So now you believe me?"

“Calm down, kid—”

“Don’t go all ‘kid’ on me. _Now_ do you believe me? About me being kidnapped? Are you gonna threaten to call the police and have me kicked out of your place so soon again?”

“First of all,” Jongin crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow at him. “ _You_ were the one who ran away from here in the first place- _and_ with my shirt too, if you hadn’t noticed.” He points at the shirt on Kyungsoo’s form. “I did intend to give you in to the police, but you went ahead and ran away first. Is this turning into a hobby now?”

The boy stays quiet.

“Thanks for not talking back. Now, do we want to talk about it here?”

Kyungsoo remains quiet.

“Is that a yes? ‘Coz if it is, then I’ll have to suggest we go to the couch—wait, why the hell are you crying?!” Jongin’s hands flail around, not knowing what he’s supposed to do in this very situation. Surely patting his back would seem weird. “Fine, we’ll just talk here if you want to so much!”

“That’s not it, you jerk. And I’m not crying,” Kyungsoo says as he aggressively wipes the wetness in his eyes using his sleeve.

Jongin bites his lower lip. “If you insist…”

“Let’s get to the damn couch.” The younger boy mutters. “My legs are achey.”

_Don’t damn my couch_ , Jongin wants to say but bites on his tongue instead as he watches the boy angrily stomp his way to the said couch. He hesitates for a second before follows suit. Who knows what this walking timed bomb could say or do to him.

“So,” Jongin begins on his way to the other side of the couch. “Like I said on the bus, those people looked suspicious. I noticed it way back at the store. There was a patrol vest on the passenger seat of the van, and that’s how it reminded me of what you said, about not trusting the police.”

“That’s not it, right?”

Jongin blinks. “Why wouldn’t that be it?”

“I find it hard to believe that that’s the only reason you came to me.” He sniffles some and proceeds to angrily pull some tissue from the coffee table in front of them.

“W-what does it matter?” Jongin warily stares as the younger boy fiercely blows his nose. “Right now, we have to find a way to tell the real police what actually happened." 

“What real police…” He mumbles to himself.

Jongin pretends he doesn’t hear that. “I was hoping you have a clear plan for that without involving me. The one week still applies. You have—” Jongin mentally counts down the days in his head. “—4 days left. After it’s over, I’ll hand you over to the police on my own if you don’t walk out yourself. Keep it low. I’m heading to bed now.”

Jongin is just getting up when he suddenly feels a tug at his shirt. He looks down to see the boy with a hand timidly clutching at the material of his shirt. Kyungsoo isn’t looking up at him. 

“Um,” He begins, pupils wandering and hesitant. Patiently, Jongin waits for him to speak out. “You didn’t have to come for me, but you did. I uh… I know I’ve never said this, but um, t-thank you.”

 Jongin’s not entirely sure what he was expecting, but he guesses the appreciation is pretty much due. But to expect it and actually hearing it out leaves an inexplicable feeling in its wake, more so that the boy looks as if he’s waiting for some sort of an answer when Jongin can’t think of one.

Kyungsoo has every reason to thank him. Jongin knows this. The elder male has nothing to lose even if he just left him there. The civilian part of him thinks it has a lot to do with benevolence, because a responsible citizen should stay alert and conscious of the current events in the country, right? A family’s son just went missing and the whole country is looking for him. It’s only right that Jongin ensures his safety or is it not?

Maybe Kyungsoo’s right. Maybe there’s an underlying intention that even Jongin isn’t aware of for saving him from being kidnapped for the second time just now. Maybe it has a lot to do with how hopeful the boy is looking up at him. Jongin’s head feels so cluttered.

“Where exactly did you plan to go this morning? After leaving my place like that…” Perhaps sitting back down might help Jongin think a bit, so he does just that, facing Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo averts his gaze, and Jongin’s positive he can see redness slowly spreading on his cheeks. _What is there to blush for…?_

“I wanted to clear my mind for a bit.” Kyungsoo admits bashfully. 

“Can’t do it in my place, huh?” Jongin muses, noticing the blush grow a darker hue. “What, am I distracting?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo shoots him a glare.

Jongin stifles an amused smile, clearing his throat before returning to his neutral face. “I thought you left because of what I said last night.”

“That’s partly the reason for it…” Dropping his gaze on his lap, Kyungsoo bites at his lower lip. The sight makes Jongin feel slightly bad for having said what he said, especially knowing that he used to feel the same way back in his high school years.

“Sorry,” Jongin says, deciding to be the bigger person here. “Didn’t mean to offend you or anything. I was just… wary.”

“I know you were. Anyone would be,” Kyungsoo half-shrugs. “I’m sorry too.”

“You better be—”

“For making your shirt smell like me.” Kyungsoo drags the front of his own shirt up to his nose to sniff at it. “Your boxers too.”

“Wh—” Jongin stutters, his words caught in his throat. “That’s uh, nothing to worry about? The washing machine will do all the work…”

“You don’t mind?" 

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Kyungsoo merely grins.

 

*

 

Sometimes, Jongin wonders if Kyungsoo knows what he’s doing.

The boy has lived his entire life off his parents yet here he is, crashing at a stranger’s place instead of reporting to the police after being kidnapped, for whatever reason it may be. Kyungsoo could still be lying to him after all this time and Jongin would never know.

Sometimes… Jongin wonders if he himself knows what he’s doing.

Accommodating a kidnap victim slash runaway is something he would never have thought doing while struggling with his clinical year. He’s working just enough to pay for his rent and eat half a meal. 

He’s not using the money his parents gave him. Yet. Undeniably, he can see himself in the future using maybe a bit of it in the case of emergencies, but not in the nearest time soon, no. It’s only reality, and there’s only so much working at a convenience store can pay at the same time trying not to get left behind in his studies.

That Kyungsoo kid must have been spoilt enough that he doesn’t seem as heavy-hearted as one should be when they’ve just departed from a home without notice. Jongin convinces himself that he isn’t interested in the kid’s life affairs.

 

***

 

Jongin feels something airy brushing over his nose. He blinks open his eyes-

-and almost screams.

“What are you doing in my bed?!” He shout-whispers to the boy who has made himself comfortable on the other side of his queen bed. 

“Now I know we’ve cleared up all that stuff before and you’re letting me stay here despite me imposing on you. I’ll say that that’s very kind of you and thanks for that, seriously. But now, I really want to get something out of my chest and I don’t think it can wait until tomorrow morning, so if I can have a bit of your attention, please?”

Jongin looks at him in disbelief, half sleepy half annoyed. “I have a feeling this is your real personality popping out.”

“Is that a yes?" 

“Shoot, then.”

Kyungsoo shifts to lay on his stomach. “You’re gay, right?”

“Go back to the couch.” Jongin turns over to face the wall.

“Just answer me.”

“Why should I?”

“This bed is really nice.” Kyungsoo says and Jongin can feel the warmth getting closer behind him. He groans and finally turns over, startled at the close proximity before backing away for a bit.

“Fine, I’m not gay, I’m bi, okay? Just- where the hell did you get the idea from?”

“That you’re gay? You really want to know?” Kyungsoo asks, and Jongin’s not sure if he wants to know now.

“I told you I’m bi, and on second thought, don’t answer that question.”

“No, let me answer it.” The boy says and without a pause, he clears his throat and begins. “The moment you first took me in after that storm? You stared at my chest for a while until you told me you’re heading to bed. Oh, and that time when you came into your room and I was looking through my bag and you found my cigarettes? You paused for a moment when I looked up. I’m guessing you have a thing for that. Also, the way you handled things back at the bus stop is kinda gay, no offence. And I have a feeling you came to me because you actually have a thing for me. Oh, and you like seeing me cry.”

“Whoa whoa whoa hold up. First of all, I did _not_ stare at your chest, you brat. You have none, what’s there to see? And secondly, what ‘thing’? You can’t just imply I have a kink for that—”

“I never said it was a kink. You said it.”

Speechless, Jongin gapes at him for a second before he starts talking again. “You know what, why is this bothering you so much? That I’m bi?”

“So at one point, you must have thought that I’m attractive at least, right?” Kyungsoo’s gaze on him is expectant, and if Jongin didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought the younger male was sly but the boy’s obviously just using Jongin’s _thing_ for him to his advantage.

“I- I’m much too tired for all of this. Can we just go back to sleep? Go back to your couch.” He kicks at the boy’s shins once before shutting his eyes close.

“I think you’re attractive, too.” 

Jongin takes a deep breath through his nose. “Kyungsoo, go back to the goddamn couch.”

“Have you ever had sex before?”

“Kyungsoo.”

“What’s your type? Are you into muscly guys?"

“ _Kyungsoo_.” 

“Or small guys like m—”

In a blur of limbs, Jongin finds himself on top of the younger male, his temper gone out of check as he pushes the latter’s wrists down the bed. The sheets fall off the bed from all that rustling. He stares the boy down who looks like a deer in headlights, eyes huge and lips half-parted, stumped in surprise. 

“Scary, huh? Being underneath someone?” He shifts so he’s properly sitting on his calves as he traps the boy down. “Are you a virgin? Is that why you’re asking me all that? To make me get in your pants?” 

The boy stays quiet, his pupils shaking as he looks up at Jongin and the elder male feels very shameful to find this a turn-on. _I’m fucked up, aren’t I?_ “Sure, anyone who sees you will think you’re attractive and I’m no exception. And if you keep provoking me like this, I don’t know what I might do to you, Kyungsoo. You want me to touch you? I’m fine with that.” Without waiting for some sort of response, Jongin leans down and tilts his head, staring at those plush lips he’s been dreaming of touching for days. He slows down just as his lips hover an inch above the boy’s, as if stalling some time for the boy to—

“Kiss me.”

…Wait. Did he hear him right? 

“Go ahead, kiss me.”

Jongin raises his head to look him down, confused. Well that didn’t go as planned. The boy was supposed to push him off or curse him or something, not encouraging him to further his action.

“What’s the matter? That was what you were gonna do, right?” Kyungsoo sounds eager, a great contrast from Jongin’s internal battle.

Jongin instantly gets off of him and sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing a tired palm down his face. In that moment he questions his moralities as a fully functional adult man, wondering if he’s messed up the kid’s mind of if _he’s_ the one who’s messed up.

“Is it because I’m a minor?” Kyungsoo probes.

“Honestly? Yes. You’re underaged. I shouldn’t have made any move on you.”

“But you wanted to.” Kyungsoo says, as if it’s no big deal. “And you’re only like 4 years older than me. When you were 17, I was 13. Plus, I’m turning into an adult soon in 2 months.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel any better?” Jongin releases a deep sigh. “Kyungsoo, I think you should go back to sleep.”

“And I think you should kiss me.”

Jongin shuts his eyes, summoning for patience. “Are you always this annoying?”

“You just knew?”

Frustrated, Jongin groans and stands up on his feet, almost swaying at the blood rushing to his head. “I’ll take the couch instead.”

At that, Jongin hears a rustle and before he knows it, he’s pulled down onto his own bed while the younger boy hops over him and makes a dash to the door. 

“Old men take the bed!”

Jongin doesn’t register it soon enough to have any appropriate reaction.

 

*

 

Jongin can’t sleep.

_It’s the kid’s fault_ , he internally decides. _It’s his fault I’m seeing him everywhere, even behind my closed eyelids_. Is it because he’s been spending too much time with him? It’s not like it can be helped since the first thing he sees after coming back from college is that boy sprawled on _his_ couch.

_‘And I think you should kiss me?’_ Jongin scoffs. Who is he to say what Jongin needs to do? That Do Kyungsoo kid is really a handful. He talked about their age difference as if it was just plain maths — not that Jongin’s good with numbers anyway. He’s majoring in a medical related field for a reason.

Not to mention, he’s _hella_ cute. And for a _hella_ cute boy, the universe sure makes up to it by giving him a _hella_ annoying character. 

Jongin should sleep before the thoughts become weird.

 

***

 

_Saturday_

 

 

 

To say that Jongin’s surprised to see Kyungsoo sitting obediently at the dining table first thing in the morning is an understatement. He narrows his eyes at him.

“What are you up to, now?”

“You’re saying that as if I tried to murder you in your sleep last night.” Kyungsoo rests his arms on the table, gesturing at the dishes there. “I made breakfast. Sort of. Found your instant pancakes in the cabinet.”

“That’s… great.” Jongin acclaims, eyes still heavily laced with sleep he might have lacked last night. He goes over to his seat. “Going all domestic now, are we? Didn’t know you had it in you, being the rich kid and all.”

Kyungsoo says nothing to that, and Jongin thinks it hit a nerve somewhere so he mutters a quick “Sorry,” to which Kyungsoo waves his hand off. They start digging in.

“Go ahead.”

Kyungsoo looks up at him with questioning eyes. Jongin raises an eyebrow. “You obviously have something to say to me. Or ask.”

Kyungsoo tsks, looking away. “I hate that you’re so quick-witted—”

“Hey—”

“—But I like that about you.” Jongin chokes on his pancake, reaching for his glass of water. 

“P-Pardon?”

“I’m saying that I like you.” Kyungsoo confesses, his cheeks staining red pretty quickly, his full lips pouting.  

After washing down the stuck pancake, Jongin looks at him long enough to make Kyungsoo feel slightly uncomfortable. “You’re 17. Seventeen-year-olds feel that way towards everyone.”

“I’m not sexually frustrated.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m saying that you’re confused.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Gosh, you’re not my dad. I’m not going through _that_ kind of phase or whatever you might call it. I can like who I want, and right now, I like _you_.”

“You have been spending almost 5 days here with only me to talk to, and I guess you could say I kind of took care of you, for the most part. It’s human nature to have some sort of dependence on the people you’re closely associated with, and the one in you forces you to believe that I’m a good enough match for you, especially since you’re still young and haven’t had enough experience in adulthood. You’re confused, Kyungsoo.”

“I am _not_ confused.” Kyungsoo insists, dropping his fork at the side of his plate.

“Eat your breakfast, Kyungsoo.” Jongin resumes his meal without any further talking, thankful the kid is not talking back.

After finishing their meals, just as Jongin gets up, Kyungsoo voices out. “If you still think it’s a phase that would pass, can you at least hug me? Maybe that way I can get it over faster.”

“ _Or_ make you fall for me faster. No thanks.” Jongin gathers their dirty plates and places them in the sink, draining them with water and planning to wash them later. 

“Please?”

Jongin sighs, thinking it can’t go wrong with just hugs. So he finally nods and the boy runs into his chest and tightens his arms around his torso. “You’re weird.” He rests his unsure hands on the boy’s back. “One day you’re yelling at me and now we’re hugging.”

“This is nice.” Kyungsoo says instead, burying his nose into his clothed chest.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it that you’re bigger than me. You must like it too, right?” He purposefully looks up at him, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

“I- Don’t put words on my mouth, you brat.” Jongin is lying if he thought the act didn’t affect him. “And get off now.”

“No. We stay like this. Until I deem it’s done.”

“You’re doing it again. You’re patronizing me."

Kyungsoo chuckles, and the sound of it travels through Jongin’s body, making him feel giddy. Without realizing it, Jongin’s lips slowly curl into a smile. 

“This is really nice. I’m not kidding. I should hug you more. I should hug people more.” Kyungsoo mumbles, and his hold on Jongin grows tighter. At some point, Jongin feels Kyungsoo’s shoulders shaking, and he doesn’t say anything but only tightens his embrace on him. The child has been away from home for so long, and there’s only so much a stranger’s company can help.

 

*

 

The doorbell rings.

“Oh, someone’s here.” Kyungsoo says matter-of-factly, going up from the couch to get to the door. The quick sprints coming from the laundry room however startles him out of his skin. 

Jongin pants lightly from his mini marathon. “What did I say about keeping it low? Go into the room.”

“Your room? Or the spare room? ‘Coz the spare room is boring—”

“ _Doesn’t matter_! Go!” Jongin hisses, watching the kid pout and sulkily walks into Jongin’s room. Jongin’s suddenly not so sure if it’s a good idea. He clears his throat and looks into the peephole. He frowns, unlocking the door.

“Chanyeol? Really now?" 

“Hey, when a friend is bored, the only logical thing to do is to disturb his other friends.” Chanyeol grins, forcing his way inside. “Wanna go out for breakfast?”

“Chanyeol, it’s almost 12 pm. And I’ve already had breakfast.”

“Aw shucks. ‘M hungry. Fix me something.”

“Help yourself, idiot. I’m doing the laundry.” Jongin goes back to placing the dirty clothes into the washing machine.

“Hey Jongin, why don’t you do the dishes?” He hears Chanyeol shout out. “Looks like you had a company over.”

Jongin pales, dropping the detergent cap on the floor. “Uh, I got tired. There was no company.” He shouts back.

“Yeah? Could’ve sworn I saw an extra pair of shoes at the entrance.”

“They-They’re my cousin’s! Bought new shoes and forgot to bring back the old ones.”

“You have cousins?”

“‘Course I do! Just eat your goddamn breakfast!”

Chanyeol can be heard laughing in the kitchen. “Stressful life you’re living. Probably should hit the club sometimes, huh? You haven’t been, for a while.”

“Well, I got busy.”

“Sure you are.”

Rolling his eyes, Jongin continues with his chore and returns to the kitchen a few seconds after, not forgetting to keep an eye out on his room, although the door is firmly closed. He hopes the kid is smart enough to not expose himself.

“So how are things with Baekhyun?” Jongin says conversationally, starting with the dishes.

“Yeah well, busier than ever coz his housemanship is almost ending and I hardly see him.” Chanyeol chuckles sadly. “Miss the sprout already.”

“You guys are still living together, right?”

“Of course we are. He’s just been spending more time at the hospital these days.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Jongin says, fingers busy trying to get the stubborn grease off. 

“Sob story. How’ve you been?”

“Uh, great.”

“Haven’t found a decent guy? You’re in college! Best time to fool around!”

“ _If_ the society is open enough about it.” Jongin shoots him a look.

“Ooh, right. Freaky. I thought we’re well past that already.”

“Well, some people just want to be… cautious about it.”

“Yep, I totally understand.” Chanyeol says. “You know gay clubs are a thing, don’t you? If you’re ever looking for someone with a dick.”

Jongin finishes his last plate and dries his hands off. “I don’t really think it suits me. Y’know, meeting people over drinks?”

“Loser.”

“Your suggestion is appreciated.” 

“Get laid.”

“Get out.”

 

*

 

“Why are you still here?”

Jongin says as he sees Chanyeol sprawling over his couch, eyes on the television and hand scooping some crackers. “Baekhyun’s at the hospital, remember?”

“Find someone else’s place to crash.”

“What, ‘you busy or something?”

“Well I- kinda.”

“Going out?”

“Um, yeah! Going out for… groceries.”

“Groceries? I was in your kitchen making breakfast and I’d say it’s pretty well-stocked.”

“Ugh, stay here and be a leech, then.” Jongin huffs, going over to the laundry room after hearing the melody signifying its completion. Why do people like to empty his kitchen so much? “Just don’t go into any of the rooms. They’re messy. I’m gonna clean them up.”

“Dude, when was the last time I care about tidiness?”

“Leech off!”

“Fine!”

 

*

 

After hanging the last of his laundry, Jongin peeks over the living room to find Chanyeol already asleep with his phone on his face, probably texting Baekhyun.

He promptly and quietly goes for his room, opening and closing the door softly before locking it.

“Your friend is loud.”

“Sorry about him. Didn’t know he’s staying longer.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just be here.” Kyungsoo says, swinging his legs in the air as he lies on Jongin’s bed.

“You okay? It’s past lunchtime already.”

“I’m still full from breakfast.”

“Okay, then.” Jongin says slowly, doubting it. The boy is always hungry. “I’ll try to send him away as soon as possible.”

“It’s fine.”

Jongin goes back to his door, but then turns back. “Are you sure? You sound off.”

“I know him.”

Blinking, Jongin shakes his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Chemistry teacher,” Kyungsoo says, his legs still swinging in the air. “Mr. Park.”

 

*

 

“Hey.”

Switching the channels, Jongin sees Chanyeol rousing from his nap. “Hey.”

“How long…?”

“Almost an hour. Up all night grading papers?”

“Nah.” Chanyeol sits up, looking around in daze. 

Jongin fixes his gaze on the television, contemplating on whether or not to feed his curiosity. “How’s teaching?”

Chanyeol grunts. “Kinda hard these days. You watched the news, right? About that missing kid? He’s in one of my classes. Imagine all the police rounding us up.”

“They still can’t track him down?" 

“They lost him in the CCTVs. That’s all I know. They’re currently trying to track him using his SIM card. Not sure how well that goes, though.”

“Oh.” Jongin faintly remembers back when Kyungsoo switched his SIM card from his phone. That boy must have been smart enough to know that.

“Well yeah. His family’s freaking out. His mother kept visiting the school lately. She fears he must have been bullied. Not that I would notice, of course. I’ve never really paid much attention to him.”

Jongin doesn’t say anything to it. Far from being bullied, the boy’s been kidnapped but instead of reporting to the police after escaping, he’s crashing at a stranger’s place. If Jongin were to really think about it, he’s not sure why the kid thinks it’s a good idea. It must have been because he lost trust in the higher ups, or something else. Perhaps a drift between him and his family members.

“Ah, I better get going.” Chanyeol says after checking his phone. “Baekhyun says he has the evening free.” He smiles widely, standing up and grabbing his car keys. “Thanks for letting me crash, man.”

“No problem.” Jongin sees him off.

 

*

 

Jongin opens his bedroom door and leans against it, crossing his arms. The boy has fallen asleep on his bed, his form curling in on himself like a little child. He looks so innocent and carefree like this as if the entire nation is not looking for him. Jongin sighs, walking over to him.

“Hey, wake up,” Jongin steals a pillow and smacks him gently with it. “You haven’t had lunch yet and it’s almost 4.”

“Mmh,” Kyungsoo whines.

“I deserve a nap more than you, kiddo. Get up.”

“I’m not a kid.” He mumbles, turning over.

“Oh crap, Chanyeol’s coming in.”

“What?!” That instantly makes him get up and look around frantically.

“Kidding. He’s gone.”

“You’re the worst.” Kyungsoo grumbles, sitting up on the bed but not forgetting to throw the pillow in Jongin’s direction, it hitting his thigh with barely an impact at all.

“He said your family’s been looking for you.”

“They’re supposed to, yeah.”

At the rather sarcastic response, Jongin frowns and crosses his arms. “You’re not worried about them?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” The boy says without much thought.

“Your parents must have been losing sleep thinking where their son could have been. They’re even losing hope to think they’ll ever get you back alive. You’ve never thought about that?”

“I—” Kyungsoo stammers. At least that’s a sign he still has some sort of conscience left. “I still have 3 days here.” Or maybe not.

“Screw that 7 days thing! You know you’ve never been bound to that anyway. I’d be more glad if you left earlier, _and_ to your own home, not elsewhere. Right now, you’re as close to a dead person and if they don’t find you soon enough, expect a memorial service made for you.”

When Jongin hears sniffles, he feels slightly bad. He watches as the boy who’s sitting on the edge of the bed now with his head hung down, hiccups escaping his quivering lips. His fingers fidget with the material of his clothes, his eyes looking down on his lap. 

“I’m alive.” He murmurs.

Jongin sighs. “I know. But your parents think you might not be.”

“I’m alive!” Kyungsoo says louder this time, wiping his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand. “I’m frickin’ alive, goddammit!”

He continues like this for a whole minute, and Jongin can’t think of anything else to comfort him other than to sit beside him and pull him into an embrace, rubbing his back soothingly. He keeps being reminded of the fact that Kyungsoo’s just a child, a sad and scared one at that, and very much away from his parental figure.

“Mom and Dad are idiots! I’m still alive!”

“Your mom and dad are not idiots, they’re worried. Parents worry for their child, Kyungsoo.”

“I’m alive…” He hiccups some more. Jongin starts rocking them at the same time telling him ‘I know you are. I know’. His hand moves up to brush the boy’s soft hair, calming him down.

Only when his hiccups die down, Kyungsoo detaches himself from Jongin, his nose red and eyes glassy. Jongin looks at him warily, unsure what’s going on through the boy’s head.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo begins, sniffling a bit. “I want to go home. But not alone.”

 

***

 


	4. Gray

It was just his luck to find a 24-hour convenience store.

The guys were just a bunch of unskilled overambitious fools; you don’t leave an abducted kid all alone in a room without surveillance, especially a smart kid like Kyungsoo. He’s seen the signs, way back when they first got their hands on him. Bickering like idiots, constant confessions of worry over being caught, coupled with really bad, bad personalities to boot. If they saw Kyungsoo as an easy target, then Kyungsoo thought they’re a piece of cake.

Don’t get him wrong; the fear was still there. They could’ve surprised him with a knife or a gun and Kyungsoo would have no way out. He wasn’t raised as a fighter, but survival instincts got him out of two attempted kidnappings so there’s that.

To most, going home would’ve been the better and only option, following filing a report to the officials. Really, it would have been the easiest route, but Kyungsoo… Kyungsoo felt heavy-hearted just at the thought of having to go back home.

The first time, Kyungsoo merely returned home and no one questioned his whereabouts. Being missing for just a day and coming back with the excuse of having slept at a friend’s place after a night of gaming, the crime is overlooked. He felt like an accomplice of some sort for not reporting the kidnap attempt. The guys were too easy, some slip-ups here and there and Kyungsoo fled as fast as his small body could handle.

This time, he felt sick. He wanted _everyone_ to know.

Kyungsoo looked around for lamp poles and tall posts, singling every CCTV out and simultaneously finding a flawless blind spot. Knowing he couldn’t escape every single camera, he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a mouth mask. Now, he just needed to look unsuspicious.

The store was empty, much to his relief. The cashier guy seemed engrossed in whatever he’s reading, and maybe if he’s dumb enough, he might not even recognize Kyungsoo.

Casually, Kyungsoo entered the store, consciously pulling on his sweater so his school shirt stayed hidden. It’s been approximately eight hours since he last ate, his stomach empty now after all that running.

He scanned the fridge and frowned when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. He didn’t think eating salty chips or anything alike could help alleviate his hunger. Stuffed bread didn’t appeal to him, milk was his first option.

Sulkily, he went over to the cashier. The guy looked lean with a healthy tan, and internally Kyungsoo kept praying the guy don’t recognize him because the mouth mask made him feel stuffy. Kyungsoo wanted to take it off.

“May I help you?” The guy asked, and Kyungsoo wanted to drown because his eyes were really attractive. It wasn’t helping that his gaze was directed at him. It made him doubt all over again on whether this guy knew him, but he tried not to let it show.

“Have you restocked this store yet? The almond milk I’m looking for isn’t in the fridge.” Hurrah to no stuttering.

“I’m sorry, but what brand is it?”

Kyungsoo mentally berated himself for not remembering the name of it. If he described it, would this guy know? He’d asked anyway, Kyungsoo might as well try. “It has this smiling cow in its logo. That’s all I remember.”

“Ah, that one. I know which one it is.” _He does?_ “The store is going to be restocked in a day or two so maybe you could come again at that time.” The guy said, his polite smile borderline creeping Kyungsoo out.

He guessed he might have ran out of luck then. Standing there, he let his eyes wander to somewhere behind the cashier guy. Rows upon rows of plastic wrapped packs with different brands were displayed there.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? He was already a few miles away from home, and no one had recognized him so far. Maybe no one would have to know—

“Would you like a pack?” The guy suddenly asked, slightly startling Kyungsoo out of his monologue. When the cashier guy narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, Kyungsoo internally panicked and pulled at his sweater some more. “Are you…?”

“I’m not a minor anymore, okay?” _Don’t tremble, idiot._ “It’s just that I’ve never tried it.” He decided to shove his hands inside the pockets of his sweater.

“Can I have your ID, please?”

 _Shit_. “I- I left it at home. I’m not a minor. Born ’92.” His voice wasn’t trembling, was it?

“Oh,” Did he buy it? Well, he still looked suspicious about it. “First time?”

“Mm.” Wait, was he supposed to say no instead?

“Well, I wouldn't recommend. They always say it’s hard to stop once you start.”

 _Oh_ , the _talk_. “Have you tried it?”

The question pulls Jongin off guard. “N-No.”

“Then you wouldn't know that.”

It made cashier guy twitch his eyebrows. “Uh yes, I wouldn't, but I’ve heard accounts from the people around me.”

Kyungsoo chose to ignore the statement. “Which pack’s the cheapest?”

“Are you serious?”

“I don't think you should question your customers like that.” He hoped he sounded assertive enough, as much as a small guy like him could manage.

“Right,” Cashier guy looked defeated, going over to pick a pack and placing it one the counter. “Right, right. Would that be all?”

Kyungsoo stuttered, scanning the racks below the counter. Would it be weird to leave with just a pack of cigarettes? He grabbed the nearest chocolate bar. He patiently waited for his items to be scanned.

“You know, mocha milk is nice too.”

Kyungsoo was reaching for his wallet when cashier guy spoke again. “Mocha?”

“Mocha. It’s the same brand as the almond one, just not as popular. Have you tried it before?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, wondering why cashier guy’s promoting the particular flavour.

“Try it. Who knows if you might like it better than the almond.” Cashier guy smiled and Kyungsoo had a flash thought of how attractive this guy looked before registering that he’s being asked if he wanted a plastic bag.

Kyungsoo fumbled for his wallet and in his rashness, almost gave his card before instantly going for cash. No cards, he mentally berated, cards can be tracked down. He pocketed the cancer pack and held onto the calorie bar, exiting the store.

Outside, he thought that maybe the mocha milk deserved a shot.

*

Who’s dumb enough to buy a box of cigarettes but not a lighter?

Kyungsoo, apparently.

He groaned in frustration, glaring down at the cancer pack. Maybe Fate wanted to stop him from having black gums and bad breath and even worse lungs. _That’s nice of you, thanks a lot Fate._

He found a bus stop and decided to kill some time there, not having a clear plan on where to go next. Maybe he could wander around for some time until the police found him, or his kidnappers if they’re fast enough. Home was nowhere on his list of options.

Hungry, he nibbled on the chocolate bar, looking around the area. It’s a bit on the quiet side, and there were many budget apartments around. There were kids loitering, probably just younger by him than a couple of years, being loud over some video games. Kyungsoo never had that experience. It was always him studying or reading some novels in his room. Friends, he had, but never ones who were willing to spend time with him.

He quietly pondered about his upcoming finals. It was his final year in high school, he knew he had to calculate his choices for his academic career. But for now, it just seemed too much. Kyungsoo wasn’t raised to be an adult; he was raised to just _be_. No one taught him how to make decisions - they have always been his parents’ job. Maybe his future academic career would also be decided by his parents too, but then came the concern of his happiness.

Kyungsoo couldn’t see himself as anything in five years time. The future seemed so intimidating. Kyungsoo wanted no part in it. His world had always been gray. He couldn’t see colours coming his way in the nearest time soon. He wanted out.

A flash of blue caught his eye, and he whisked his head to see what it was.

Cashier guy sped up.

Kyungsoo was hopeful for a bed to sleep in.

*

He came back.

Cashier guy came back and actually brought him up. Kyungsoo felt so cold outside that the apartment felt like a safe blanket.

The pajama shirt hung low on his shoulders, and cashier guy looked tired, although Kyungsoo didn’t miss the way the guy looked a bit too long at his figure. Was that supposed to mean something? He chose to overlook it.

Kyungsoo was happy enough he got to sleep warmly. Cashier guy’s a nice guy.

*

Kyungsoo took it back. Cashier guy ‘Jongin' wanted to send him to the police.

In his state of panic, he begged for the elder male to let him stay despite all the rationales pointing towards him leaving.

“You’re so heartless,” he tossed out, not caring anymore and just stormed towards the master bedroom to mope. He couldn’t care less that he’s acting like such a child, couldn’t care less if Jongin was going to call the police. Let him.

It became a cycle, then. With Jongin always threatening to call the officials and Kyungsoo throwing tantrums here and there, but they were really just empty threats. Jongin always seemed to give in to him. Kyungsoo found it to his advantage at first, but soon thought there was something more to it than just pity.

Jongin could’ve just pretended to ignore him, and Kyungsoo would’ve been fine being kidnapped for the third time in the same week. But no. Jongin came to him. Warmth filled his chest, and soon enough Kyungsoo saw Jongin in an entirely different way.

He knew now, what the signs meant, although he highly doubt Jongin knew what he was doing. It was probably just purely physical attraction on the elder’s part, and Kyungsoo knew how good-looking he was if some lingering stares and once overs he received from people at his school were anything to go by. He knew he has the appeal.

Being underneath Jongin triggered something within him. It didn’t matter that Kyungsoo was the one who provoked him, what mattered was that Jongin got provoked. He was affected. By none other than Kyungsoo himself.

Kyungsoo decided that he quite liked being underneath him. The invitation for a kiss, though, was not provocation as much as it was his desire. Kyungsoo wanted to feel him, his lips on him. But of course, Jongin being the one with more moralities (or so he liked to believe because Kyungsoo was a hundred percent the elder male was just fearful of the nature of their possible relationship) chickened out.

In Kyungsoo’s eyes, Jongin was a lot more soft-hearted than he looks. Maybe a bit aloof, but that was probably his form of self defense, in which his past Kyungsoo didn’t know of.

It’s like a plus to his already handsome face, and Kyungsoo fell deeper and deeper into the sea of feelings he has for him. He wouldn’t call it love; perhaps a big fat crush sounded better. Jongin fit into all his criteria. Kyungsoo wanted him.

But he wasn’t so sure about the elder male.

“You’re 17. Seventeen-year-olds feel that way towards everyone.”

It felt like he was so easily dismissed just because he was a couple of years younger than him. “I’m not sexually frustrated.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m saying that you’re confused.”

Kyungsoo wanted to pull his hair out. “Gosh, you’re not my dad. I’m not going through that kind of phase or whatever you might call it. I can like who I want, and right now, I like you.”

“You have been spending almost 5 days here with only me to talk to, and I guess you could say I kind of took care of you, for the most part. It’s human nature to have some sort of dependence on the people you’re closely associated with, and the one in you forces you to believe that I’m a good enough match for you, especially since you’re still young and haven’t had enough experience in adulthood. You’re confused, Kyungsoo.”

“I am _not_ confused.” Kyungsoo was so frustrated. It was one thing to just outright reject him but it’s another thing to say his feelings weren’t valid. Hell, Kyungsoo would’ve been fine if Jongin just straight up told him he wasn’t into him, but Kyungsoo liked to believe that the elder male was just in denial.

When his teacher Mr. Park came over, he felt slightly touched that Jongin kept coming in the room to check in on him. He was famished, but given the circumstances, food was the last thing on his mind. He didn’t know Jongin was closely acquainted with his teacher. Must be a friend of a friend or something.

“He said your family’s been looking for you.”

Kyungsoo thought hard about that statement, finding no fault in it. “They’re supposed to, yeah.”

“You’re not worried about them?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” Kyungsoo retorted irritably, as if it couldn’t be anymore obvious.

“Your parents must have been losing sleep thinking where their son could have been. They’re even losing hope to think they’ll ever get you back alive. You’ve never thought about that?”

 _Could they really think I’m dead? They couldn’t have given up so easily on me, right?_ He knew he was self-centered, being the only son he grew up being doted on by practically everyone. The selfishness was a given, but could his parents really think he was a dead man?

Kyungsoo suddenly didn’t like the thought. He was alive, and very healthy too. Jongin took care of him so well. His parents didn’t deserve to have a dead son.

The only thing that crossed his mind then was that he wanted people to know he was alive. He didn’t know anymore what came over him when he thought he had wanted everyone to panic about his whereabouts. It didn’t sit well with him anymore.

He didn’t realise he was hyperventilating about it until he felt arms around him, trying to calm him down. He felt so small like this, and most of all he felt irresponsible. Irresponsible for even making his parents feel the way they must have been feeling at the moment. Irresponsible for having a stranger accommodating him despite his living circumstances. Irresponsible and downright childish.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo began with resolute. He knew how miserable he must have looked in the elder’s eyes. “I want to go home. But not alone.”

 

***

  
_Sunday_

Jongin turns off the stove and places the curry chicken into a separate bowl, bringing it over to the dining table. Scooping himself some rice, he sends prayers before he digs in. The seat across of him is empty now.

_“…has finally been found alive and well. A civilian, refusing to disclose his identity, claimed to have found him running away from a warehouse and the familiarity was what prompted him to…”_

Jongin scoffs, still can’t believe the police bought it.

_“…and the owner of the van who was reported by Do Kyungsoo himself was found to be a member of the police force of the H district, is expected to receive a heavy sentence…”_

Jongin switches the channels to some cartoon show and leaves it there, resuming his dinner. He chuckles to himself, poking at his rice as he scans his house. There is no extra pair of shoes in the entryway. The couch is not occupied. His house is tidy and clean. No stomping of feet. No slamming of doors.

Just him.

He finishes his rice, and he thinks it’s the first time he sees his bowl so clean, but he wasn’t fully satiated.

He remembers the crowd of police surrounding the younger boy, protecting him from the flocks of reporters trying to squeeze answers out of him. Jongin was standing by the sidelines, watching it all happen. As much as he wanted to do something, he couldn’t. His job ended there. He wasn’t even supposed to shoulder the responsibility in the first place. It has all been on his pure will.

When they succeeded bringing the younger boy to the safety of the police station, Jongin turned on his heel. Without looking back, he walked home, careful not to let anybody see his face.

*

“That would be 14.50. Would you like a plastic bag? It would be an additional 20 cents.”

Jongin takes the cash and counts for change, handing it to the customer with practiced ease. The customer leaves the store, leaving Jongin alone in the place. That would probably be his last customer since his shift is coming to an end that night.

_“…further reports stated that the accused admitted on kidnapping the son of Do for ransom money, although the plan ultimately failed once the boy escaped…”_

Jongin returns to his novel, leaning his arms on the counter as he gets lost in the story.

*

The passageway is still as eerie as ever but it’s a decent shortcut to his apartment complex. The noodle stall is still full with loyal customers. Some kids are still seen loitering around the area playing video games.

Jongin passes everything without so much as a second glance, not even at the bus stop right near the entrance of the complex. He rides up the stairs, no one on his tail.

Unlocking his door, he steps in and stares a few seconds longer at the space where he usually places his shoes, a certain knot in his chest. He ignores it and proceeds to lock the door.

After a shower, he goes back to his laptop on the coffee table, still forgetting to buy a proper study desk. It doesn’t seem likely, though. He’s too comfortable with it for now.

When the clock hits 1 am, the sleepiness crawls in to him and he decides it’s bedtime.

He couldn’t get himself to sleep.

*

It’s been seven whole weeks. Jongin falls back into his routine quite easily, as if nothing even happened 2 months ago.

A smiling cow logo greets him.

“Kid. What is your store manager doing? It’s my tenth time here and the other flavours are still out.”

Jongin blinks at him dumbly, not sure what or who he was expecting. He shakes his thoughts off. “I’m sorry. I’ll let my manager know about it.”

“You better.” The man gestures towards the item and Jongin quickly scans it.

When the customer leaves, Jongin stares off into space for quite a while. It’s a weird feeling, a heavy nagging in his chest, and he has no idea how to get rid of it. He sits back on his stool and resumes his reading.

*

The numbers in his bank account never really ceases from multiplying, and Jongin chews on his lower lip, sighing through his nose. His parents don’t know when to leave him alone.

A part of Jongin understands that they’re doing this probably out of guilt, belatedly realizing the truth in Jongin’s words once he really took that step and left them to fend for himself. But another part of him thinks it’s too late if they ever think he’s going to come back to them with open arms. It’s just not going to happen. It’s still a bitter feeling, being misunderstood and not wanted to be heard. He has long since given up talking about his feelings to someone else, not that he was any vocal about them before this either.

Once home, Jongin lies on the couch and dials his brother’s number. He picks up after four rings.

_“Hello?”_

“Junmyeon, hey. Is it a good time?”

_“Sure. How’ve you been?”_

“Good. Hey, could you please…?”

Junmyeon chuckles from the other side of the line, already knowing what it’s about. _“Can’t say I haven’t tried, Jongin. You know how they are.”_

Jongin closes his eyes, sighing. “Could you please just give me their account number? Or just yours.”

 _“Not gonna happen. You know that.”_ Junmyeon hums in thought. _“Why don’t you just donate them or something?”_

“Donate?”

_“Yeah. For a good cause.”_

“I… don’t know why I’ve never thought about it.”

“ _Well, there you go. Hey, I’ve got something to do. Anything, just text me or something. Stay safe, Jongin.”_

He hangs up and tosses his phone on the coffee table, thinking.

*

On a cold Tuesday morning, Jongin wakes up with a cold.

It’s drizzling outside, but it’s not snowing. Jongin turns the heater up, crawling back in his sheets under the warmth of his covers. He stares at the ceiling above, trying to understand the hollowness in his heart, trying to force himself to face it head on, trying to convince himself that it’s nothing.

He doesn’t have the energy to fix himself breakfast, but he does make his trip to the kitchen for a glass of water and some painkillers. He decides the weakness in his limbs is enough to take a day off from college, and just lounges around the house, occasionally watching television when he gets tired of reviewing some medical journals online.

That afternoon, Sehun drops by his place after texting him.

“I brought sushi from the market. Cheap comfort food,” Sehun places the boxes on the dining table, removing his winter coat and draping it over one of the chairs. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Like death,” Jongin sniffles, opening the boxes to reveal colourful sushi. “Thanks for this. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“No problem. Sit down and eat.”

“Did the lecturers say anything?” Jongin splits the chopstick and picks the one with tuna on it, dipping it in the sweet soy sauce.

Sehun does the same, but instead picks on the one with a mini octopus on it. “We have a case presentation next week, same day. Topics are out, I’ll send them to you later. Also, Mr. Hoon wants the assignment on local anaesthesia done before our next posting starts. That’s it, I guess. Did you go to the doctor?”

“No, too tired to. I still have some unexpired tablets left.”

Sehun hums, chewing thoughtfully in silence. Jongin stares at him some. “You look like you have something to say.”

“I can look like that?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know. You always look like that.”

Sehun smiles cheekily. “Aw, my best friend knows me enough to read through my resting bitch face. I’m touched.”

Jongin steals the soy sauce on Sehun’s side.

“I actually do have something to say.” Sehun steals it back and picks another sushi.

“Shoot, then.” Jongin already feels nauseated from all that sweet rice and seaweed he stops at the fifth sushi. He grabs the canned peach tea that Sehun brings it with and pops it open, deciding to regret having the cold beverage later. He already feels like shit enough, he can feel shittier later when it comes to it.

“Are you going through a break up, Jongin?”

Jongin almost chokes on his peach tea. He shoots Sehun a look of disbelief. “W-What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. Just, you’ve been out of it lately, man. You don’t even make small talks with the patients anymore. They’re kinda offended by it, ya’know. Said you turned them a cold shoulder or something. But I know something’s up with you.” Sehun says casually, ignoring Jongin’s continuous freaked out appearance. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I… I’m fine.” Jongin blinks some, trying to remember how he’s been acting in the polyclinics the past few weeks. He can’t seem to pick out scenes. They have been too vague and fuzzy to him. “I’m not going through a break-up.”

“Okay,” Sehun ponders. “Is it about your parents?”

“No, I haven’t talked to them at all.” Jongin shakes his head, staring at the can in his hand.

Sehun still looks like he’s thinking, before giving up entirely. “Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m here.” He shrugs, giving him a sincere smile. “You don’t have to face it alone, you know? I don’t want to see the old you surfacing back.”

 _The old me?_ “What do you mean the old me?”

“The one from high school, who looked like he couldn’t give two shits about the world and thought that you had to bear it all by yourself. I don’t want to see that. You looked like something had been ripped away from you, and you’re currently looking like it, too, except maybe for a different reason.”

Jongin hasn’t noticed it at all until his best friend points it out for him. He doesn’t realize this whole time, the world has turned grey the instant a particular emotional boy left the vicinity of his home. He doesn’t realize in the past weeks, the similar feeling of emptiness has been crawling back at him, slowly shutting the doors to his heart again.

He doesn’t realize how the boy has brought him out of the void, and that his absence returns him to the same void.

He doesn’t realize how Kyungsoo painted his world in colour again.

*

His cold hasn’t subsided and it’s been 2 days. Jongin forced himself to go to classes that Friday and convinces himself that he can rest afterwards for the weekend, although he can’t say the same for his part time job.

He still goes to the convenience store for his shift, with a mouth mask on to prevent the cold from spreading to the customers. Baekhyun hardly comes by the store anymore since he’s been a lot busier as a houseman at the hospital, and that explains Chanyeol’s absence as well. He then learns that Baekhyun has quit working there to focus on his posting and his relationship with Chanyeol more, as per Chanyeol’s words.

The sneeze bouts come from time to time. It makes him feel like laughing to himself for feeling so miserable. Winter is really not for everyone.

Whenever there are no customers, he makes a visual sweep across the store before staring at nothing in particular. It’s quiet, too quiet that he increases the volume of the small television overhead, showing a melodrama. He takes out his class notes instead to occupy himself.

It’s another day when the cold is completely gone. It’s supposed to make him have more energy into getting out of bed and be productive, but Jongin finds himself staring at the ceiling once he’s roused from sleep. The thoughts immediately flood his wakeful brain, temporarily clouding his judgment. He’s contemplating whether it will all be worth it in the end.

He blames it on the exhaustion of classes, clinical postings and personal maintenance, and not the demons in his head.

He gets out of bed before he wastes another hour of staring into nothing. His Saturday morning is bland and consists of doing a few workout routines before chugging down a glass of milk. He’s been sorting out his clothes from the wardrobe when something falls on the floor.

It’s a familiar cigarette pack. Still sealed.

He stares at it for a long while, before shaking off his thoughts and grabbing it, tossing it into the waste bin. He doesn’t smoke and has no plans to.

Checking the kitchen, he decides to go grocery shopping in the afternoon and plans on making it back just in time for his shift.

Around 11, he receives a text from Chanyeol.

*

Jongin looks around the diner before spotting the couple, making way to the table.

“Jongin! Thanks for making it,” Chanyeol gestures to the seat across from them. Jongin takes the seat, not surprised to see Baekhyun smiling at him sleepily. He smiles back.

“Did you have a hard time coming here?” Chanyeol asks, calling for a waiter shortly after. Jongin says no. He scans the menu and decides for the cheapest option.

Once their waiter completes their order and goes off, conversation between them comes easy with mostly Chanyeol doing the talking. Baekhyun either hums while smiling or just leans against the taller male.

“We actually want to let you know something,” Chanyeol announces at some point, and his boyfriend beside him sits up straight.

They both hold their hands out and place them on the table, and Jongin sees it - two matching silver bands. He beams at them.

“Oh my god, congratulations you two!” He leans forward, a proud smile adorning his face. “When’s the wedding?”

“Yeah well about that,” Chanyeol looks down at his shorter fiancee.

“I’m going to Ireland for my postgrad. We’re planning a wedding as soon as I finish it.” Baekhyun says with a grin, and Jongin gapes again.

“Well congrats to _you_ for getting accepted! When did this all happen anyway?”

Their meals arrive shortly, and they dig in while Jongin listens to Chanyeol’s story, happy for his friend but for some reason the loneliness starts to seep in again. As they eat, the two bands shine magnificently under the diner lights.

***

Saturday night finds Jongin working at the store again. As usual, he engrosses himself in his study material, because really, nothing else matters at the moment. It’s the usual, monotonous pattern of his mundane, colourless world.

Nothing else.

He hears the bells clink. He doesn’t look up.

He hears the sound of the fridge doors being opened and closed. He doesn’t look up.

He hears the muted footsteps gradually getting louder as they approach him. Still, he doesn’t look up.

The thud on the counter top makes him blink.

He looks up-

-And he suddenly remembers why there’s the constant nagging in his chest.

“Cashier guy.”

He remembers the void in his chest being filled, maybe not yet to the brim, but enough for it not to echo too freely. He remembers the fire burning within him, making him feel more human, more alive.

He remembers a boy named Do Kyungsoo, who was a nuisance as much as the little spark that ignited the flame within him.

Jongin finally looks up, making contact with the same youthful eyes, vibrant with personality and wonder. He’s wearing the most dazzling smile, his heart-shaped lips curling up. The boy is donned in a baby blue sweater and dark jeans, his neck snug in a cream-coloured muffler. His hair is trimmed into a pixie cut, the sides shaved. It makes him look even younger than he already is. He looks at Jongin with the same fascination like two months ago, as if it hasn’t faded out at all.

“You’re here.” Jongin murmurs.

Kyungsoo pushes forward the box of milk over the counter. “And you still haven’t kissed me.”

“That’s 2.75,” Jongin informs, looking at the register.

“For a kiss? Pretty cheap, I’d say.”

“The milk.”

A snap of the wrist makes Jongin raise his eyebrow at him for one second. He takes the black card from the boy’s hand and swipes it on the machine. “To use your card for a box of milk…”

“Sorry?”

“Your pin number, please.” Jongin waits for Kyungsoo to enter his pin number, and then the roles reverse as Kyungsoo waits for his receipt to be printed. “Here you go.”

Kyungsoo tucks the card back in his wallet before grabbing the milk. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Thanks for coming. Have a nice evening.”

He sees Kyungsoo smile at him. “Have I ever told you how terribly good-looking you are?”

“No, but thanks.”

“You have a nice evening too.” Kyungsoo heads for the automatic glass doors, before stopping and then turning back. “Why do you like mocha milk, though?”

“Why do _you_ like almond milk?” Jongin asks back, his tone far less demanding than the supposed intent. It’s not even a challenge. It’s like flirting… except Jongin doesn’t want to admit so.

“If you invite me over to your place, I’ll make sure you finish your meal.” Kyungsoo promises, looking hopeful.

“I hardly believe that’s possible.”

“My graduation is in 2 weeks.” He suddenly throws out there in the open. “I want you to come.”

Jongin doesn’t respond, and instead stares at him dumbfoundedly, processing the request. Kyungsoo secretly smiles to himself, rocking on his heels, still standing in front of the doors but not making an exit.

“And I’m not a minor anymore today.”

*

Jongin lets the boy enter first before himself, peeking at the ground floor where Kyungsoo’s driver is waiting outside. The sleek black sedan looks a bit out of place considering the backdrop. He locks the door behind him.

“I never said how I actually like your place.” Kyungsoo kicks off his shoes and steps inside, wandering around as if it’s his own. Jongin arranges his shoes at the side. When he walks into the living room, Kyungsoo is seen sitting obediently on the couch, patting the space next to him.

Noticing the hesitance in Jongin, Kyungsoo pouts. “You don’t refuse the birthday boy.”

Jongin walks over to sit beside him rather stiffly. “I haven’t gotten you a present.” He mutters, eyes trained on the blank screen of the television.

“You do have it, though.”

The elder male looks over at him questioningly, or rather, in wonder. The fact that the boy even thinks to return to his place after all that ruckus makes him wonder. Is Jongin worth it?

“Let me have it?” Kyungsoo asks shyly. If he’s trying to be cute, then it’s definitely working.

“What present?”

“Tell me you’ll let me have it first.”

Jongin stays quiet, continuing staring at him.

“Silence means yes.” When Kyungsoo begins to stand up and pad his way to him, Jongin panics ever so slightly, mostly out of surprise and the uncertainty of what to do. “Relax, I’m not trying to murder you.” The boy then closes their distance as much as the difference in their posture allows. Their knees touch, and Kyungsoo spreads his to plop himself on Jongin’s lap comfortably.

“What present?” Jongin repeats himself, his hands balled up at his sides. There is warmth everywhere - on his neck, his belly, his thighs, his—

He sees the boy closing his face in on him, and Jongin’s gaze lands on his plush pink lips, wondering if he’ll ever get to taste it like he so desires to. Oh, his face is getting close, and those lips even closer, and—

Kyungsoo places his cheek on Jongin’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around his torso tightly. His hips unconsciously tighten around Jongin’s, eliminating all spaces between them. They’re hugging - no, _Kyungsoo’s_ hugging him.

“ _This_ is my present.” He hears the boy mutter.

Jongin feels his heart beat a second faster; feels himself falling faster. Half a minute passes by as Kyungsoo hugs him like a koala bear when Jongin finally does something with his hands. Steadily, he places them on Kyungsoo’s waist. He thinks to himself then, about how much he likes the weight on him, just like this.

“Happy birthday?” Jongin says against the boy’s hair quietly, breathing together with him at a steady pace.

He feels the boy hugging him even tighter. Kyungsoo nods, and faintly giggles.

“The happiest.” A short moment later, Kyungsoo speaks up again. “Are you going to grant me a kiss?”

“A _kiss_?”

Kyungsoo pulls back, studying the elder with an intense gaze. “You make it sound like it’s such an out of the norm activity.”

“It is.”

“Oh… o-okay then,” Kyungsoo hesitantly puts himself back to his hugging position, his shoulders slumped.

Jongin internally snickers at the action, contemplating dragging it out for a bit before thinking it’s not worth it. Besides, a kiss sounds just about good right now, especially with this particular boy.

“I can give you a kiss on the day of your graduation.” He teases anyway.

Kyungsoo pulls back, his cheeks colouring a pretty shade of red. “Why not now?”

“Because you already got your present.” Jongin proves a point by holding onto the boy’s sides, earning a surprised look from the younger male. “Your graduation gift should be different than your birthday gift, don’t you think? Getting it all at once,” Jongin tsks playfully. “You shouldn’t be too greedy.”

“You’re just being a cheapskate.” Kyungsoo says and without a warning, he cups Jongin’s face and brings it closer to his, their lips coming into contact in a short peck.

Jongin didn’t have time to brace himself, and when the boy releases him, he stares at him in shock, but feels his eyebrow twitch at the audacity of this boy to blush when Jongin should be the one to get flustered.

“You’re a thief,” Jongin accuses. “I’m not giving you anything for graduation.”

“That’s fine. I can just continue being your little thief.”

 _Tease_.

Jongin gives up, and gives in to his cute little thief. His hands grip Kyungsoo’s slender waist and pulls him closer to meet his lips halfway, angling his head right. Kyungsoo yelps but makes no move of pulling away, practically melting at the contact.

After a a few seconds, obviously inexperienced Kyungsoo has to pull away for air because he couldn’t regulate his breathing right in the middle of it all. His lips are moist, his cheeks stained a pretty hue of red, and eyes unfocused. Jongin, even through his daze, savours the image carefully before him. It isn’t everyday you get yourself a cute boy on your lap looking very well debauched, and they haven’t even used tongue yet. He’ll have to slowly teach Kyungsoo that.

Being the stubborn and the ever curious child, Kyungsoo dives back in for another round, this time more eager. His hands wrap around Jongin’s neck, and his body seems like it’s trying to melt with Jongin’s to become one. Jongin finds it all amusing that he lets out a faint chuckle.

Kyungsoo pulls away, with all his panting glory, to glare at Jongin. “What’s so funny?”

“Is this your first kiss?”

“No, don’t laugh at me. My first was just a peck.”

“Try breathing through your nose. You’re making me worry you could pass out mid-make out.”

“Jerk.” Kyungsoo slaps his chest once and angles his head again. Jongin gladly obliges him. “Be my boyfriend.” Kyungsoo says against his lips, more of a soft command than a request.

Jongin pulls back. “You want us to be boyfriends?”

The boy nods, but then freezes, looking somewhat ashamed. “I mean, i-if you don’t already have one…”  
“If I already had one, I wouldn’t have let you kiss me like that.”

Kyungsoo beams. “Be my boyfriend.” He repeats. “I like you enough for it. What do you think?”

The elder male feigns a thoughtful look. “Do _I_ like you enough for it, though…”

“I’d very much think you do. A lot, too. You can’t hate this face.” The tilt of his head as he says this is very much intentional. Jongin’s weak.

“Yeah but attitude-wise…”

“I’ll be good. For you.” Kyungsoo quickly says, his eyes hopeful. This, of course, hits Jongin in the gut and he feels a thousand of emotions mingling in his chest, and some might have just gone south too unfortunately. He’s damn sure Kyungsoo knows his weak spots.

Jongin thinks Kyungsoo’s being way too easy and he hates to know if he has done it on people other than him before. “Do you do this to everyone?”

“Do what?” He looks genuinely confused.

“Getting your way.”

“Is it ‘getting my way’ if you want it too?”

“You think you’re cute trying to outsmart me.”

“Ah, can’t have that.” Kyungsoo sing songs, putting back his hands around Jongin’s neck, smiling cheekily. “My dentist-to-be boyfriend remains the smarter one. Got it.”

Jongin shoots him a look. Kyungsoo startles on his lap.

“Did you just…?” He pulls away to look down at their thighs. Jongin quickly removes him and puts a good amount of distance between them on the couch.

“For now, just kissing. No touching beyond the neck. Do you understand?”

The pout given his way is kind of expected. “But until when?”

“Until you’re an adult.”

“But I’m legal now!”

“Your age is, but obviously not your mentality.” Jongin makes it a point to remain as assertive as he can.

Being the stubborn child that he is, Kyungsoo is of course dissatisfied, but Jongin appreciates how he’s not talking back.

“You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

Kyungsoo nods sadly. “For you.”

Jongin is so weak he prays for the Heavens to give him a lot of strength. This is not going to be easy. Kyungsoo makes it so hard for him. Kyungsoo makes him weak.

“Can we at least cuddle on your bed?”

Jongin thinks there’s nothing wrong with that.

*

“What’s on your mind?”

They are both laying down on Jongin’s bed, facing each other. Neither are hugging the other though, but they’re at eye level where they can just stare each other’s faces.

Jongin studies Kyungsoo’s face, probably a bit too long for his liking because soon the younger male’s cheeks begin to colour. He mutters a quiet “That you’re here.”

The blush deepens. “How does it make you feel?”

Jongin smiles. “Alive.”

That’s the limit for the boy because Kyungsoo then has to turn over and bury his face in the pillows. “Umnphgurrushayitbagbcoshumnotsheezy.”

“Didn’t get that.”

Kyungsoo only turns his head, his whole face flushing. “I’m not gonna say it back because I’m not cheesy.”

“Fine by me,” Jongin shrugs, his gaze never leaving Kyungsoo. How does someone’s face become so red like that? “But why did you wait until 2 months to come back, though?”

“Oh, I wanted to wait until it’s my birthday so that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable knowing that I’m not a minor anymore.”

“That’s… thoughtful.”

“What, have you been waiting for me all this time?”

“No,” Jongin admits. He really wasn’t expecting anything. “I thought that was it, when I sent you off to the police.”

“Did you ever think of finding me?” Kyungsoo pouts.

“I don’t even know where you live.”

“Then if you did, would you come and find me?”

Jongin purses his lips as he thinks about it. “I think I wouldn’t have the courage for it.”

“You’re a coward. I guess I’m the braver one here.”

Jongin internally admits to that. “I just thought… I just thought that you deserve someone better.” He says. “I still don’t understand how you still like me. I’m still convinced it’s because of the dependence in you, a leftover of a child’s trait that is still within you.”

Kyungsoo frowns hearing Jongin’s words. “You’re a good man, Jongin. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You always look so tired sometimes, though. And I’m not a child.”

“I’ve always been tired, Kyungsoo.” Jongin confesses, closing his eyes. “I’ve always had the thought of when this will all be over. The course, and everything.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kyungsoo asks softly, and Jongin’s surprised to see this serious side of him, but he shakes his head instead. He doesn’t want to burden a child with his thoughts.

“I don’t think so. A hug would be nice, though.”

Immediately Kyungsoo latches on to him and embraces the bigger male with his whole body, making Jongin snort. “You’re lucky your new boyfriend is a hugger.” Kyungsoo says against Jongin’s shirt.

“I sure am.”

“Kiss me again.” Kyungsoo requests timidly.

And God, Jongin’s weak.

He only takes a second to register the sentence before he’s hovering above Kyungsoo, trapping the boy underneath him as he kisses him senseless. The position reminds him of the night Kyungsoo invaded his bed, where he demanded to be kissed but was weakly rejected by Jongin who insisted he had more moralities than to kiss an underaged boy at that time.

Jongin pulls away as soon as Kyungsoo’s fingers begin to get naughty and try to lift his shirt. The whine that follows makes it hard for him to resist. He stares down at the boy, watching his chest rise and fall as he tries to catch his breath. Jongin gets off of him before he forgets his own word of celibacy. He lays on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“Your driver is outside.”

“Mm-hm.” Kyungsoo’s voice is still somewhat breathy.

“You are expected to return home.”

“I don’t want to.”

“It really is your hobby. Running away.”

“Only to your place.”

Jongin peeks an eye out and glances at him. “Why do you like my place so much?”

“Because it’s not overly spacious, and you have just enough so the furnishings aren’t excessively lavish. It’s cozy.”

Jongin hums in response.

“And there’s you. At my place, there’s no you.”

Jongin feels his heart thudding faster. _This kid, ah_.

“You’re the only person I don’t mind annoy.” Kyungsoo continues.

“I’m kicking you out.”

“Will you come to my graduation ceremony?” Kyungsoo genuinely asks, rolling over to lay on his stomach and resting his chin on his folded arms. He wears a hopeful look, one you can’t say no to.

Jongin takes a few moments to think of his answer. “It’s kinda awkward for me, don’t you think? We know each other through this whole… whatever mess you wanna call it. What do you want me to be there as, anyway? Surely we’re not going public.”

“My hero, of course.”

“Get out.”

“You don’t want to see me graduate? And be a rightful adult? Oh right, you probably have a thing for school uniforms—”

“I don’t! Stop assuming I’m a pedophile, Jesus.” Jongin curses, shutting his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I can still wear them if you politely ask me to—”

“Not the point!”

*

“Keep warm.” Jongin says as he shows Kyungsoo to the front door.

When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he bends his head only to see the boy’s cheeks colouring profusely. He inwardly smiles.

“Uh,” Kyungsoo begins, searching for his pockets. “Can you say that again?”

“Huh?”

He fishes out his phone. “I’m gonna listen to it again at home—”

 _Slam_.

The blush instantly disappears. “Cold jerk!” He bangs on the door once, but walks down the stairs with a cheeky smile.

Meanwhile behind the closed door, Jongin can’t stop himself from smiling like an idiot. Kyungsoo came back to him, even if it’s been weeks since their last parting. Jongin finds it hard to believe it’s real.

Suddenly, he sees the world in colour again.

*


	5. World in Colour

 

Jongin checks his tie again in his reflection in some unknown car’s window. Satisfied that it’s not crooked, he fixes his hair a bit, making sure it stays gelled and nice.

There are so many people he feels terribly self conscious at the fact that someone might know who he is and who he’s going to meet. He brings up the bouquet to make sure none of the flowers died, if mostly for concealing his nerves. There’s a tiny bear with a tiny graduation hat on its head sitting among the flowers.

Soon enough, a group of students come out of the hall with all their graduation gowns and caps and scrolls and whatnot. Jongin looks for a certain short boy among the many heads. When he finally appears, Jongin resists the urge to run to him.

Kyungsoo looks so small in that gown, and he’s being manhandled by some of the larger boys who’re fighting to get a selfie with him. In the end, Kyungsoo snatches the selfie stick and angles it to himself, posing and snapping a photo of only himself while the rest of the boys fight to get in the same frame. How very Kyungsoo.

Jongin waits until the group disperses so he can get to him, but then stops in his tracks when he sees Kyungsoo waving at an older man and a woman. Jongin can only assume they’re his parents.

The sight brings about a sort of bitterness welling within him. At the time of his high school graduation, only his brother came to celebrate with him. His parents weren’t there because they were overseas for some reason. The fact that it also happened in the same year Jongin wrongfully got into trouble with that selfish witch. He wasn’t saddened at all at the absence of his parents on a supposedly special day, he was already holding some sort of grudge against them. It’s just that seeing an image of a happy family makes him think of his lack thereof.

He casts the thought far, far away. It’s supposed to be a happy day for his cute (newly turned) boyfriend.

It’s a few minutes after that that he feels a buzz in his pocket. He takes out his phone and reads the text, then looks up.

_“all yours now”_

Kyungsoo is looking around, obviously trying to spot Jongin. The elder male smiles to himself, observing how Kyungsoo keeps on tiptoeing and turns his head this way and that, bumping into people here and there, before he decides to use the virtual method again.

_“where r u”_

Jongin is still smiling when he replies with a ‘coming for ya’, walking forth and towards the still lost looking Kyungsoo. His back is facing Jongin now, and Jongin uses it to surprise him by lifting his hat, making the boy spin around and comes face to face with a bouquet.

Kyungsoo blinks up at a smiling Jongin.

“Congratulat—“

Suddenly Jongin finds his hands full with a boy clinging to his shoulders as he pulls the taller male down for a hug. He almost drops the bouquet as he struggles to stay upright, laughing. It is then he remembers this display of affection is, a tiny bit, dangerous.

“Thanks for coming, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers sincerely, clinging tighter, and Jongin thinks that maybe he doesn’t mind it for now.

Kyungsoo releases him and Jongin finally hands him his bouquet. The smile adorning the younger male’s face has Jongin resisting the urge to kiss him.

“Is this bear me?”

“Yeah, well,” Jongin shrugs. “Considering how generous you are as a hugger.”

“That’s a koala bear! This is a grizzly bear!” He argues.

“Still a bear.” Taking out his phone, Jongin opens his camera.

“You resemble it more than me.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing. Let me just fix my hair a little,” He grabs the phone from Jongin’s hand and switches it to front camera, using it as his mirror while Jongin stares at him. “You’re staring.”

“Your hair is going to be ruined anyway once you wear your hat.”

“The bangs. The bangs are important.” Placing the hat on his head, he finally angles the camera trying to get a good lighting. “Jongin hurry! The clouds are coming!”

Confused, Jongin looks up and winces at the brightness of the sun. Indeed the clouds are coming.

“Hurry or we’ll miss this perfect lighting!” Kyungsoo says, exasperated. He grabs Jongin’s arm himself and pulls him close, their arms brushing together. Jongin doesn’t get the chance to form a proper pose when he’s suddenly pulled down until he feels soft lips smooching on his cheek.

 _Click_.

 

***

 

Jongin is in front of the Daisy Orphanage, his palms clammy with cold sweat. He’s always only passed by the place, but never actually makes an effort to stop by.

There are children jovially playing in the mini playground, some caretakers busy telling them to be careful and eyeing on the younger ones. They look so carefree, and Jongin’s heart slightly aches for them.

He takes a deep breath and crosses the gates, approaching an elderly woman who is helping a little boy down the slide. The lady notices him first, and gives him a puzzled smile.

“Hello. Can I help you? Are you here for adoptions?”

Jongin purses his lips, blushing while looking over at the many children there who some has stopped playing in opt to stare at the stranger. “Uh, no. But can I meet with the person who manages this place? The owner, maybe?”

“Sure, one second.” The lady steps inside the house. Jongin waits, feeling awkward for being the oldest man there. All the caretakers seem to be female, and the oldest child looks about middle school age.

“Well hello there, mister.”

A much older lady greets him, but she doesn’t really seem worn. Her hair is bunched into a neat bun, and her posture looks professional. She has the air of a businesswoman, but her smile is warm. “I’m Mrs. Yoo. We hardly have visitors in the past few weeks. Would you like to come inside and have some tea?”

“No, that’s okay, Mrs. Yoo. I’m Jongin. I just want to borrow a bit of your time.”

The woman smiles, motioning for him to have a seat. “Sure.” Once both are seated, Jongin takes out his notepad and a pen, handing it over to the woman who takes it confusedly.

“If you don’t mind, would you please write down your account number for me?”

Mrs. Yoo beams, already writing it down. “You don’t want to look at the kids first?”

“I’m- I’m not here for adoptions, Mrs. Yoo. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. We are in need of more baby diapers anyway, and those aren’t exactly cheap,” The woman hands back his notepad and pen. “Are you from around here, Jongin?”

Jongin looks at the neat handwriting, consisting of numbers and the account holder name ‘Yoo Shin Ah’. “I’m staying at the apartments across.”

“I see. If you have the time, come and play with the children sometimes.” The woman smiles. “They would love to have a brother figure around.”

Jongin’s response is cut off when one of the many caretakers rush inside after a baby’s wailing is heard.

“Ah, that’s our latest one. Barely 5 months old.” She says as the caretaker comes out of the room with the said child on her hip, trying to calm her down with some pats on the bum. “He’s a sweet little thing. Loves people.”

Jongin stares at the toddler with teary eyes, already calm and now just having his entire fist in his mouth as he looks around with curiosity. He is cute. What kind of parent has the heart to send him off to an orphanage instead of taking care of him?

“You can hold him if you want to.” Mrs. Yoo says, and Jongin slightly panics.

“No, I’m fine.” Jongin stammers. “I don’t wanna make him cry.”

Mrs. Yoo only chuckles.

*

When he rounds a corner and enters the premises of the apartments, he’s taken by surprise to see a sleek black sedan parked in front. The driver is outside drinking a canned coffee, leaning against the door. He gives an acknowledging nod Jongin’s way, and the young man returns it albeit a bit awkwardly.

He walks up the stairs, heart drumming in excitement to meet his guest. He guesses the word guest is not the most suitable, considering Kyungsoo has always only make himself home there.

Reaching his floor, he sees a figure sitting cross-legged by the door. Kyungsoo looks up.

“You’re late. Your shift ended forty minutes ago.”

“Sorry, I was at the orphanage.” Rummaging through the contents of his bag, he fishes out his house keys.

Kyungsoo stands up and makes way for Jongin to open the door. “The orphanage? Are you adopting?”

“What- why is everyone asking that?” He unlocks the door to his house. “No, I’m not adopting. I already have to look after one.”

Kyungsoo points to himself with a scandalous look. Jongin shrugs playfully before making his way inside.

“But why were you at the orphanage anyway?”

“Visiting.”

“Do you visit there everyday?”

Jongin begins to check the cabinets and fridge. “No, and you ask too much. Chicken or fish?”

“Fish!”

 

***

 

The Incheon international airport is buzzed with many people, and the speakers are constantly coming on to make announcements.

Jongin watches in amusement as Chanyeol almost squeezes the life out of Baekhyun in his embrace. If Baekhyun wasn’t crying just now while saying goodbyes to the Byuns, he’s definitely sobbing into Chanyeol’s shoulder now. He’s never seen this side of Baekhyun before this. Their engagement bands gleam prettily, bounding the two lovers with the hope of loving each other for a long time.

It’s probably been a good 5 minutes of exchanging promises and reassuring words to each other until a staff announces that passengers are supposed to be waiting at the respective gate now. Chanyeol reluctantly lets him go, but not without a gentle ruffle on Baekhyun’s hair.

They’re waving at a red-eyed Baekhyun as he hands his passport to the security. His flight to Ireland is in another 45 minutes. It isn’t until Baekhyun completely disappears from the crowd that Chanyeol turns his back and wipes his eyes. Jongin can tell he’s trying to be strong for the both of them. He gives the taller male a side hug, patting his back comfortingly. “He’ll be fine there. It’s only for 2 years.”

Chanyeol chuckles, sniffling a little. “That sleepyhead. I hope he won’t get in too much trouble because of it.”

Jongin stifles a laugh, watching the many people entering the departure hall and handing their passports to the security, struggling with their luggages and whatnot. A faint airplane noise can be heard in the background.

Internally, Jongin wonders if he has to part from his young lover in the same manner.

 

***

 

“What are you _doing_ here?”

Kyungsoo smiles disgustingly sweetly, following Sehun into the cubicle. “I’m here for the same reason every patient’s here.” He grins. Jongin wants to crawl in a hole.

Jongin can only watch as Sehun reviews the case file in his hands, while Kyungsoo makes himself comfortable on the patient chair, looking at the instruments on the tray beside him. Jongin’s heart wants to pound out of his chest when Kyungsoo playfully messes with the light above him, probably fascinated at the motion switch. He waves his hand up and down and watches the light flickers on and off. Jongin purses his lips and feigns indifference, tapping his foot quite anxiously.

“Your name sounds familiar. Do Kyungsoo…” Sehun says more to himself as he takes his seat on the doctor’s stool, approaching Kyungsoo. He then makes a noise of realization. “You’re that kid in the news.”

Kyungsoo nods, but not exactly looking at him. His eyes are on Jongin, who’s beyond flustered to even be there but not having the courage to go elsewhere and lose sight of the younger boy in case the latter decides to be a brat.

“Nice. I’m about to examine a Director’s son. How did you come here?” The practiced friendliness makes its way prior to the actual examination. Jongin watches as Kyungsoo and Sehun exchanges a rather normal conversation and then followed by Kyungsoo answering a few protocol questions before Sehun can go ahead and undergo his physical examination. Sehun looks over his shoulder for a bit.

“You’re not assigned to any patient, right Jongin? Mind assisting me?”

Jongin sees the question before he even has the chance to flee. He begrudgingly nods, entering the cubicle and ignoring the permanent gaze on him as he takes the case file from Sehun. While waiting for Sehun to sanitize his hands, Jongin takes a stool and sits on the other side of the patient, turning to the appropriate page.

“Hi, Jongin,” Kyungsoo whispers, looking genuinely happy.

Jongin only gives him a small nod, clicking his pen in a fidgeting manner and can Sehun goddamn hurry?

“You look so dreamy in that white lab coat.” The younger boy whispers again, and for the second time Jongin gives him a meek nod.

“Okay,” Sehun chirps, putting on his sterile gloves. “I’ll be doing some examinations on you, is that okay?” Kyungsoo nods. “Good. Now if you could please look at me. Yes, that’s it. Good. Open your mouth… close it… open again… close it. Good. Jaw: symmetrical,” the last part is directed at Jongin, and the latter jots it down where necessary. Sehun then moves behind Kyungsoo and places his gloved hands under his chin, fingers pressing with ease. It’s a silent session until he softly tells Jongin that there’s no swelling and tenderness in his lymph nodes.

The following examinations go fairly silently as well, and Jongin’s surprised the boy doesn’t make much fuss. Jongin seizes the chance to study the boy’s oral cavity too, pleased that Kyungsoo takes good care of his oral health. Aside from the normal staining on the lingual surfaces of his teeth, all the teeth are aligned nicely and are of healthy condition. No hints of caries or gum disease. He soon wraps up the check-up and goes to find the lecturer for cross-checking.

As soon as Jongin’s out, Kyungsoo takes out his mobile and standby for recording, ignoring Sehun beside him who’s obviously trying to make a conversation. When Jongin returns, Kyungsoo taps on the red button, but has to end it sooner because the real doctor is here to cross check his oral cavity examination.

Jongin at the side only observes quietly. There’s nothing particularly health threatening, the boy’s just here for a regular check-up, despite the clinic not being his frequented one. Also, Jongin’s convinced Kyungsoo’s here to torture him.

Once it’s all over, Sehun goes and discards his protective gloves and mouth mask, and Jongin watches Kyungsoo get off the seat, still slightly wary the boy might do anything just to embarrass him. To his surprise though, Kyungsoo only looks around- no, he’s studying the entire place, eyes wide and exploring.

Jongin can’t say he’s a little offended when the shorter boy goes out of the cubicle without so much as a glance his way, but he is. Instead of going back to the reception like Sehun told him to, Kyungsoo takes it upon himself to walk around the polyclinics, observing the other cubicles. Still keeping an eye on him, Jongin stays in his spot, not wanting to trail after him. He then feels a hand on his shoulder, a perplexed Sehun facing him.

“Have you seen my patient? I think the receptionist is looking for him.”

Jongin only gives him a brief shake of the head, straight out lying. “No, but I’ll let him know if I found him.”

“Thanks, bud,” Sehun then walks off towards a particular cubicle, probably wanting to observe a different patient. Jongin then tries to relocate the boy but there are too many heads he can’t pinpoint where he is now, especially since Kyungsoo’s a head shorter than the walls of all these cubicles here. Blinded by slight panic, Jongin rounds a corner and squeezes through a group of students discussing in the middle of the already narrow path, eyes searching.

He thinks he almost made a complete round around the polyclinics until he catches sight of a raven-haired boy tiptoeing in front of a cubicle in the Pedodontics department. Jongin stops, relief washing over him when he thinks twice about approaching him. He doesn’t arrive to a decision in time because Kyungsoo has already spun on his heels to walk before stopping short at the sight of Jongin.

“Do Kyungsoo?” Jongin doesn’t let his voice waver. “The receptionist is looking for you.” He’d like to think he put up a good act, but then Kyungsoo smiles, not the kind of smile you give to a stranger, but one which is reserved for just Jongin. That youthful, vibrant smile that makes his entire face light up, and for a moment, Jongin’s caught in a trance.

“Jongin,” He simply says, effectively ruining whatever pretense Jongin tried to put up. Jongin can’t even bring himself to be mad at him because the boy is jogging up to him with an energy to it. “Jongin.” He says again.

“Kyungsoo.”

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo beams at him, his hands almost reaching out to Jongin’s lab coat before realizing where they are. Jongin should probably scared because the boy looks awfully determined. “I want to study here.”

“You- You want to _what_?”

Ignoring Jongin’s look of utter shock, Kyungsoo walks past him with a skip to his step. “Ah, the reception. Where is it again?”

With a confused finger, Jongin points in the general direction of where it should be. He’s still frowning to himself as he watches Kyungsoo go, wondering if he really heard that one sentence right.

Kyungsoo wants to _study here_?

*

Jongin should have expected who’s behind the door as the doorbell rings across the apartment.

“Do your parents know where you always disappear in the evening or do you lie to them about where you go?” Jongin asks as soon as Kyungsoo makes his way inside.

“They know I’m at Kim Jongin’s place. At my saviour’s place.”

Jongin whips his head around so fast he feels slightly dizzy. “They _what_?”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Your parents _know me_?”

“Smells like pasta,” Kyungsoo goes for the kitchen, leaving a stupefied Jongin at the doorway.

Breaking out of the initial shock, Jongin enters the kitchen to find Kyungsoo lifting some newly simmered pasta to his mouth, but Jongin holds his arm still, making the boy look at him.

Jongin holds the gaze sternly. “Your parents _know me_?”

“Contrary to what I told the police, I told my parents everything,” Kyungsoo shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “They knew who you are back at my graduation.”

“ _That long_?” Jongin squeaks.

“They’re pretty chill about it. Don’t worry.”

“Do they know we’re d-dating?”

“I didn’t tell them, but they probably have an idea.”

“ _God_ ,” Jongin lets him go and turns on his back, his lips set into a thin line. This is bad, this is really really bad. Jongin didn’t think this relationship through, he didn’t think to this extent, and he probably should. He really should’ve thought it through. His life is basically over. Non-existent. Gone.

“Jongin…?” Kyungsoo tries, abandoning the pasta in his hand. “What’s wrong?”

If his name is leaked to the media, the whole country will know him. The entire nation will label his face as Kyungsoo’s abductor, no matter what Kyungsoo’s reasoning is. It doesn’t matter that Kyungsoo’s the one who forced himself onto him and stayed at Jongin’s place for a while. The point is that Jongin let him, and he told no one. He’s an abductor.

“You’re not mad, are you?” Kyungsoo asks behind him, sounding doubtful now.

And to make matters worse, Kyungsoo’s parents _know_. They know him. They know who took their son away from the officials, away from the safety of their home. Even if Kyungsoo had been safe at Jongin’s place, it didn’t matter because the country went out of their way to _search_ for him.

“Jongin, please don’t be mad…”

Kyungsoo’s parents have every right to end his life right now, suspend him from his undergrad, pull off his lease, put him to jail. Oh god, Jongin is done for, he’s really done for—

He feels something hit his back, and hands wrap around his torso. Kyungsoo pulls him into a tight backhug, and Jongin can only stand there wordlessly.

“I won’t let you leave me.” Kyungsoo’s words are muffled against the taller’s back. “No matter what.”

And in that moment Jongin realises he admits defeat way too easily. Kyungsoo’s right, Jongin’s a coward. He’s too much of a coward that he almost thinks of giving up their relationship for the sake of himself. He didn’t think of Kyungsoo just now, and that’s his first mistake. There should be enough balance of give and take in maintaining a relationship, when will Jongin learn?

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says remorsefully, turning around to face the shorter boy and _god_ , he really is sorry. Kyungsoo’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He’s probably doing his best to hold them back, not wanting to be such a child in front of Jongin. He should give the boy more credit, for being the stronger one between them. “Kyungsoo, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not leaving me.” Kyungsoo says more persistently, his hands gripping in Jongin’s shirt.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Jongin pulls the smaller boy into a hug, letting the latter’s face plant itself in his shoulder. “I- I can’t believe I even thought of that.” Kyungsoo only grips at his shirt tighter as a response. “I’m not leaving you.”

A growling noise interrupts their moment. Jongin blinks, wondering where it comes from.

“I hope the pasta sauce is ready,” Kyungsoo mumbles bashfully. Jongin can’t help the laugh that leaves his throat.

“It is.”

*

“You weren’t serious right?”

Kyungsoo looks up from his pasta. “About what?”

“About wanting to study at my dental school.”

“Oh, I’m plenty serious,” Kyungsoo says, spinning the pasta around his fork into a big ball before wolfing it down. Jongin looks at him warily, wondering how does he do that without choking. “I’m gonna try to apply there after my entrance exams.” He says this with his mouth full, and Jongin has to bite his tongue before he starts nagging.

“You know you’re not obligated to follow my career path, Kyungsoo.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to do it for me.”

“Who says I’m doing it for you?”

“You have an entire life ahe— wait, you’re not doing it because of me?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “It would be a bonus if I could study at the same place as yours, but I guess anywhere is fine as long as it has a dentistry program. ”

Jongin has to sit back in his chair and study him, amazed. “You really want to be a dentist.” He states more than asks.

Nodding excitedly, Kyungsoo swallows his pasta down. “I thought the place looks interesting. And you don’t have to deal with any other body parts like you do in general medicine. Also, the way you communicate with the patients there as if they’re your own family, it touches me. I want to be a dentist.”

“You’re going to need more than just your brilliant brain to handle the pressure, Kyungsoo. You need a lot of patience in the first two years because at that time, you’re not going to spend them in the clinics yet.”

Kyungsoo nods in understanding, the light in his eyes never dimming. “I know. And I can’t wait to begin.”

Jongin has to smile at that, in awe of the boy’s determination. If he’s being truthful himself, he’s proud of him. Really, really proud.

*

Like usual, they’re on Jongin’s couch after dinner and cleaning up, kissing the lights out of each other. It’s more Kyungsoo not getting enough of Jongin and the latter only hides his amusement to himself.

Soon enough, they find themselves moving to Jongin’s bed, making out heatedly. Jongin likes the taste of Kyungsoo, but he’s better at managing it compared to the younger boy who can’t seem to let Jongin go even for a second. Gasps turn into pants, and they finally pull away for oxygen lest they both want to pass out at the lack of air.

Kyungsoo smiles breathlessly, fingers still in Jongin’s hair as they both take a breather. “You look good on top of me.”

And Jongin wants to retaliate with a ‘you look good under me’ but instead he’s staring him down with an intent gaze, feeling all the warmth around them. Too warm. Kyungsoo drops his smile as he learns that gaze, his pupils completely blown with pure _want_.

“My graduation gift is overdue, you know.” Kyungsoo breathes.

“Oh I know,” Jongin gives a lazy smile, leaning up with his hands on either side of Kyungsoo’s figure below him. “I haven’t forgotten. Lucky for you, huh?”

“Can I have it?”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Kyungsoo nods eagerly. Jongin swoops down for a kiss, just because.

When Jongin pulls back and starts to take off his undershirt, revealing his toned chest and very, very faint abs on his flat stomach, Kyungsoo marvels at him in awe. “I never knew you work out.”

“Hardly. I’ve been busy these days.” He tosses the shirt down the floor.

Kyungsoo hums, eyeing the tanned feast before him shamelessly. “How many partners have you had?”

“Including you?” Jongin ponders, running a hand down his abdomen. “Six- no, four? The other two were one-night stands.”

“You hook up?”

“Hey, I’m a man with needs too, okay?”

“You don’t look the type.”

“You’re killing the mood here, Kyungsoo.”

“Whoops, can’t have that,” Kyungsoo reaches up to kiss him and they hold their liplock. When Jongin starts to finger the material of Kyungsoo’s shirt, the boy breaks their kiss.

“I-I wanna keep my shirt on, please,” Kyungsoo says, his fingers stilling on the hems of his shirt.

Jongin stares him down for a little, and as disappointed as he may feel, he rather the boy feel comfortable in whatever way he prefer. “Of course, Soo. If it makes you feel comfortable, keep it on.”

“I’m sorry,” The boy mutters, looking away in what look like repressed shame.

“No, don’t say that,” With the thought of comforting him, Jongin dips down and catches his lips instead while nimble fingers go down to grab much smaller ones that seem to be gripping hard on his shirt. He gently pries them away from the material and brings them up, pulling back from the kiss. “Shirt on. No big deal, okay?” Jongin eases a smile to the younger, placing both of the latter’s hands on either side of his head and intertwining his fingers between the spaces.

He continues to pepper some more kisses on Kyungsoo’s jaw and moves down to kiss his clothed chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. His hand detaches from Kyungsoo’s to pull down his pants, getting rid of them with the lift of Kyungsoo’s hips. He then feels the skin of his exposed thighs, his touch teasing and raising goosebumps in its wake. He hears the boy inhaling in surprise when Jongin pries open his legs so he can wedge in, and promptly calms him down by kissing him again.

His hand maintains on his thigh for a bit before going up, up and up to ghost around the tent of Kyungsoo’s briefs, earning a soft gasp. “Has anyone ever touched you down here?”

Kyungsoo eyes him with hesitance, and Jongin can tell he’s contemplating. “N-No.”

“Never experimented?”

“Fine. One guy. Long time ago. It was only once, because apparently he didn’t like how vocal I was.” Kyungsoo admits with shame, turning away.

That’s awful, Jongin thinks. To not like having pleasure just because of that? Kyungsoo has a beautiful voice, especially now that he’s under him. Jongin wants to hear everything.

“Don’t hold it back with me.”

Kyungsoo blinks up. “What?”

“I want to hear you.”

At that, the boy blushes furiously and purses his lips, probably counteracting the very thing Jongin tells him to do. So Jongin makes sure to stop the action by pressing the heel of his palm on Kyungsoo’s erection, successfully eliciting a surprised mix of moan and whimper.

“A little warning, please…” Kyungsoo breathes, throwing his head back as Jongin starts kneading.

“If I gave you a heads up, you’d probably never make all these sounds,” Jongin continues his ministrations before deciding he wants to feel more skin. With that intention, he slips down the waistband and cups the hardened member, making the boy arch his back in need of more. So that’s exactly what Jongin gives him.

He watches as the boy grips the pillowcase beneath him while his other hand is trying very hard to keep the shirt from slipping up. Jongin can already see his cute little navel, but he keeps mum at that so as not to alert the other boy. He can also spot two pointed buds underneath the material of Kyungsoo’s shirt, and damn, Jongin thinks he’s salivating.

Still keeping his hand at work on the erection, Jongin leans down to nose at one of those buds, feeling the material thinning around the area. The unmistakable gasp from the younger male prompts him to wrap his lips around his nipple and sucks at the fabric, the heat sending a jolt of pleasure through Kyungsoo’s spine when he arches his back for more, but too shy to ask for it.

Kyungsoo in bed is so much different than what Jongin expected him to be, considering the boy has been nothing but daring with the occasional misplaced confidence on the surface. Kyungsoo in bed is so… demure, with a hint of stubbornness on the side because apparently the boy still thinks he needs to win against something. Egoistically shy.

Jongin is so, painfully, turned on.

“Shit…,” Jongin says as he leans back and studies the boy beneath him. Flushing from the face to the neck, (and probably his chest too if he took his shirt off) his eyes looking up at Jongin, confused but lusting at the same time. And God, Jongin’s never wanted someone so badly before, not even his previous partners. His own erection is aching and the tight jeans aren’t helping.

He doesn’t realize he’s stopped his ministrations on Kyungsoo’s hard-on when the latter whines a: “Don’t stop, please…”

Jongin blinks, dazed by a cloud of lust himself. “Sorry- Let me just—”

“Are you going to fuck me?” Kyungsoo asks, looking down at one of Jongin’s hands that is zipping down his jeans to free his arousal. “Jongin, can you please fuck me?” He changes the question instead.

“Do you really want me to?”

“I…”

 _It’s the lust talking_. Jongin knows deep down the boy isn’t exactly ready for it, but in the haze of lust, your judgment can get a little twisted. He’s got to take the upper hand here and not let himself be swayed by the younger boy’s words. “There’s no need to rush, Kyungsoo. I don’t think you’re ready.”

“But I wanna know…”

“Then know you will. It doesn’t have to be today.”

“I’m clean.” Kyungsoo still tries, looking up at him hopefully.

 _God is testing him_. Jongin can feel himself twitch in his boxers, aching for some friction, and hopefully it doesn’t have to be within Kyungsoo’s walls as much as he wants to.

“Have you ever fingered yourself?” His hand is occupied with getting rid of his pants and boxers until he’s the only one stark naked, going back to fit himself between Kyungsoo’s parted legs and wrapping his fingers around both of their erections.

“F-fingered mys- _unhh_ ,” The smaller male moans at the friction, looking down at their cocks pressing together. “Yeah, but it didn’t- _oh fuck_ \- didn’t feel good…”

 _You mean you didn’t do it right_ , Jongin wants to say but the friction is too good he can’t even make himself speak. He bends down to catch Kyungsoo’s lips, hand busily working on their nether regions.

“I’ll show you next time,” Jongin pants against the younger male’s lips. No verbal response comes from Kyungsoo save for the high pitched whine he makes, bucking his hips up.  
  
Jongin doesn’t foresee the orgasm already having hit Kyungsoo, shooting spurts of white onto Kyungsoo's clothed stomach and his thighs. Kyungsoo’s body convulses in sensitivity when Jongin doesn’t cease the stroke of his hand around them, causing another string of come to escape the slit of Kyungsoo’s cock. Jongin finally releases him to focus on his own, fingers working at a fast pace.

 _He came a lot_ , Jongin notes, _and fast too_. As expected of a virgin. The thought makes Jongin come with a low groan, directing it downwards so as not to further ruin Kyungsoo's shirt. His release dribbles along Kyungsoo's thighs, having mixed with the boy's himself.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo pants, still having gotten down from his high. “That feels so good.”

Chuckling breathlessly, Jongin splays his fingers on the mixture of come, making a greater mess of themselves. He then drags his sticky fingers down the boy’s groin, reaching the cleft of his ass and probes into the hole with the tip of his finger. “Feels even better with actual penetration.”

The sudden act has Kyungsoo gasping, trying to sit up to see what’s going on down there. “Is- Is that your cock, Jongin?”

“No, just my finger.” He takes it out and watches the boy lean back on the bed with a breath of relief. “See, you weren’t actually ready.”

“You just caught me by surprise.” 

Getting up from the bed, Jongin grabs the tissue and starts wiping both of them. As he cleans the inside of Kyungsoo’s thigh, a giggle escapes the boy’s lips, followed by a hand stopping him from cleaning further.

“Tickles,” Kyungsoo chirps. Jongin smiles down at him.

"Your shirt is soiled."

"I'll change to a new one later." Kyungsoo says, but the sudden fall of his voice makes Jongin look up.

“Is something wrong, Kyungsoo?” Jongin disposes the soiled tissue and asks, not able to contain his worry. _Did I actually hurt him? His feelings?_

Kyungsoo shakes his head, eyeing up at him. “I can’t give you children.”

“What-“ Jongin sputters. “Where is this coming from?”

“You went to the orphanage. Do you like kids, Jongin?”

“I did go to the orphanage, but I have no intentions of adopting.” Jongin reasons, resting his head on his palm as he gazes down at the younger. “And not really, I guess. I’m not good with kids.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t like them.” Kyungsoo mutters. 

“Kyungsoo, you’re overthinking. It’s not like we’re getting married anytime soon. We don’t have to think about having children.” The boy goes quiet. Something dawns on Jongin. “You- You want to marry me?”

“I’m not saying now! I just- it’s a possibility for me.”

Jongin stares at him in disbelief, not sure what to make of the blushing mess under him. Maybe it's easier for Kyungsoo to think about marriage because the boy is still basking in the sort of afterglow, but still Jongin finds it all a bit incredulous. “You know marriage is a huge deal, right?”

"I know."

"It's not just an exchange of vows and all those bright things you see on TV."

"I know, Jongin."

Kyungsoo answers as if he's trying to humor a child, making Jongin itch to smile at the silliness. He then clears his throat and regards him more seriously, still hoping that maybe Kyungsoo's just playing with him. "You're really considering marriage?"

Kyungsoo gives him a deadly serious look, as if offended Jongin would even ask such a thing. “I’m in love with you. Of course I would think about how I want our future to be.”

Jongin can’t feel his face, and his heart is beating way too fast for his own good. It’s been such a long time he heard that word being directed to himself, and he realises he had lost all compassion towards human relationships just because he felt like the world was against him _years_ ago.

Kyungsoo is at the prime of his blooming youth - it doesn’t matter if the boy is already adult by law. His heart shimmers with the kind of innocence only a child can have, and a child loves. Loves too easily. It’s why adults dote on them, because they’re so easy to love.

And maybe, just maybe, Jongin can learn again.

“Jongin? Are you okay?” The boy raises his head and asks worryingly. Before he knows it, he’s pushing Kyungsoo on his back and hovers above him, peppering him kisses everywhere on his face and finally his lips.

“Please don’t change,” The elder male pulls back and looks him in the eyes. “If ever the world is harsh to you, stay. Stay like this.”

He’s met with a puzzled frown. “I don’t understand, Jongin.”

And the man smiles, because of course he wouldn’t. The boy’s never tasted the cruel world before, and Jongin would like it to stay that way.

“Thank you for reaching out for help from me that night.” He says instead, lying back on the bed and wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo’s smaller form.

Kyungsoo smiles. “Thank _you_ for coming back for me at the bus stop.”

 

***

 

The following weeks find both Jongin and Kyungsoo busy swimming into books and more books, with the former having his finals just around the corner and the latter with his entrance exams.

Kyungsoo still makes sure to drop by at Jongin’s place, sometimes on a daily basis and bringing books along with him. Jongin finds that studying at the store while there are no customers is less distracting than having a cute boyfriend around the house to make out with. They have yet to reach third base, and even if Jongin craves for that intimacy, he’s willing to wait until Kyungsoo’s truly ready. The boy _has_ been showing signs that he wants it too, but Jongin knew better.

Occasionally, Kyungsoo would even bring a set of fresh clothes just so he can stay the night and cuddle with the elder male, and Jongin would kiss him goodbye while rushing to get ready for his college the next morning. Kyungsoo’s driver would then nod at him in acknowledgment and Jongin has to fight the urge to blush because this man literally spends his time making sure Kyungsoo gets to his boyfriend’s place safely and then back home.

Kyungsoo’s parents once sent him to cram school 4 months before the entrance exam so the boy could focus on his studies more, but that backfired when he persuaded his driver to fetch him so he could come over to Jongin’s place.

That makes Jongin hold to his authority as the better adult and chides Kyungsoo for it, that if he were to drop by his place again, he’d have to have at least studied the given material as per Jongin’s instruction. It’s proven more effective than the cram school.

Jongin would often think that it’s only a matter of time until Mr. and Mrs. Do call for him and decide his entire presence is a huge distraction to the younger boy. Until now, he hasn’t gotten _the_ call, and his relationship with Kyungsoo remains untouched.

Sometimes too, Kyungsoo would even appear in front of his doorstep clad in his pajamas and an eye mask strapped around his head, asking to sleep with Jongin because he couldn’t sleep in his room.

Like tonight.

Jongin rubs the sleep in his eyes, wondering who the hell is ringing the doorbell incessantly at 2 in the fucking morning.

He had a long day that day, having assisted all morning and only receiving cases for himself past noon. He even skipped lunch because right after his posting after lunch, they had a unit test and he really needed to study. To top it off, he still needs to decide on a topic for their group research, which he has been trying all night only to come up short of nothing. He’s beyond exhausted, and he would really appreciate an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

He heavily drags his feet to the door. Checking through the peephole becomes a passing thought, and he just unlocks the knob without undoing the latch, pulling the door open.

He really should’ve known.

“Kyungsoo? What the hell?” He undoes the latch and opens the door fully, puzzled at the sight of a pajama clad pouting boy in his doorway at an ungodly hour. Even in his tired mind, he still manages to think how annoyingly adorable his boyfriend is standing before him.

“My cousins came over and they are loud as hyenas and I really just want to sleep,” Kyungsoo whines, rubbing at his tired eyes with the back of his hand. Jongin knows he must be exhausted too. The college entrance exams is in less than 2 months.

“Do your parents know you’re here?” It becomes an obligatory question whenever the boy drops by his house. Jongin isn’t really expecting an answer anymore. He peeks at the ground level and indeed his driver brought him here. At least he knows Kyungsoo has been safe and will be.

“Let them figure it out on their own. I need sleep.” He’s already making his way inside… _and_ into Jongin’s room. 

Jongin snorts as he shuts the door close, smiling as he locks it.

The boy never learns.

 

 

 

 

 

  
_End_

  
_(…to be continued?)_

 


End file.
